


I Maybe Sort Of Like You More Than Originally Planned

by larrymylove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Falling In Love, Flirting, Hate to Love, Love/Hate, M/M, louis is a menace, louis is his job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrymylove/pseuds/larrymylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is offered his dream job at the prestigious online newspaper, Syndrome. The only problem? In order to land the job, he first must go through a trial period. His trial? Shadow Louis Tomlinson - party boy extraordinaire and heir to his father's multibillion dollar company.  Harry must write an article showing Louis is not just the partying playboy the media says he is, and prove to the public he is a worthy heir to the company. Easy enough, right? But now here he is, living in Louis' penthouse for the next three weeks and Louis has a tendency to be a menace and a natural flirt. And Harry has no idea just how much trouble he's gotten himself into by agreeing to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. This does not portray how any of the boys - or their families - are in real life. 
> 
> Basically Harry has to convince the public that Louis is worthy of taking over his father's company, and improve his image - which, if successful, could save the company from losing millions. Louis wants nothing to do with any of it. And Harry develops something along the lines of an embarrassing crush. Liam and Zayn are Louis' best friends and are dating. Louis has a soft spot for Harry's best friend and roommate, Niall - which drives Harry crazy. Basically your run of the mill hate-to-love story but I'm quite in love with writing it :) 
> 
> WARNINGS: Bad parenting, abusive parenting, Louis is a party animal.

Harry had to tilt his head back to take in the full length of the skyscraper. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen one before. He’d lived in New York City for a few weeks now. He’d even been _inside_ one of the large buildings - the Trump Tower. But that had only been to purchase a pastry from the Starbucks (Harry got a kick out of Donald Trump having his own Starbucks) inside, so that he could have his roommate snap a photo of him holding a pastry and coffee outside of Tiffany’s. Niall had rolled his eyes, calling Harry a tourist. But Harry wanted to lap up as much of the city as he could. If that made him a tourist, so be it.

Now, he was standing outside one of the many skyscrapers that lifted the city upwards to the heavens. And he felt very overwhelmed. A few weeks ago, he’d just moved here from England. Now, he was going to a job interview at one of the most prestigious online newspapers in the states - Syndrome. And Harry had to pinch himself to even believe it. He’d seen online that they were hiring - looking for fresh meat. And Harry had sent in his resume (not that it had much - just the uni newspaper he used to write for) and a sample of an article he’d written. He hadn’t even expected to hear back. He’d mostly just applied because Niall had dared him. And then a few days later, he’d gotten a phone call from a Marsha Landers. Requesting he come in for an interview.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped through the brass and gold revolving door. This was it. He couldn’t believe it! He found the directory next to the marble elevator hallway. He found the floor for Syndrome - floor 37. He took another deep breath before pressing the UP arrow. It was now or never, right? Surely he wasn’t going to be hired. He had little to no experience. It was a joke. A _dare_. They’d take one look at him and laugh. And it wouldn’t be so bad, right? He’d just go back to working at the bakery. No biggie. It had been a dare. He’d do his best, but if he didn’t get hired, the world wouldn’t come to an end, right?

Harry stepped off the elevator and was greeted by an office with panoramic windows. He doubted he’d ever get sick of the view of the city. It always took his breath away. He signed in at the front desk and was told to have a seat. Harry sunk down onto a bright red leather counter. The whole office had that vibe - leather, reds, blacks. Hip, was what Harry thought.

“Please, Mr. Styles,” the secretary said, drawing him from his thoughts, “Down the hall you’ll find coffee, tea, refreshments. Help yourself.”

Harry nodded. It’d be rude to decline, right? He rounded the corner of the hall and found a countertop and small fridge. He decided on a coffee. He poured himself a mug - mugs, not plastic cups, he noted - and added in some milk and four packets of sugar. What? He liked his coffee sweet?

“That’s disgusting.”

Harry glanced up to see a boy, about his age, leaning against the wall across from him. He was striking, was the first thing that came to Harry’s mind. _Striking_. He had piercingly blue eyes and cheekbones that should come with a weapon permit. And shaggy, soft, wispy brown hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt and black skinny jeans and beat up sneakers. Not that Harry was sizing him up. Because he _wasn’t_. He noticed the toes of the Converse sneakers had smilie faces drawn on them. Their eyes were X’s. Harry glance down at his own appearance - dress shirt, dress pants, loafers.

“Didn’t you hear me?” The boy pressed and Harry snapped out of his thoughts, glancing up. “That’s disgusting,” he repeated.

“What is?” Harry asked, dumbly.

“Four sugar packets, really?” The boy raised a brow. He shoved off the wall and pushed in next to Harry. He poured himself a cup of tea, no milk and no sugar, and took a sip.

“I like my coffee sweet,” Harry remarked, “You aren’t even drinking coffee. You’re having tea. Forgive me if I don’t have a taste for bitter bean juice.”

“Ha,” the boy let out a sharp laugh, “Just saying, too sugary and grainy and gross.”

“No one asked you,” Harry reminded him, taking a sip of his coffee. And okay. _Maybe_ that fourth sugar packet had been a bit much. Not like Harry would admit that now. He took another sip, “Besides. If you get have unwarranted opinions, so can I. You’re quite underdressed.”

The boy made some sort of indignant squawking sound and Harry raised an amused brow. “I can wear whatever I want,” the boy protested, “And at least I’m comfortable. Look at you! Mr. Stuffy Pants. Who you trying to impress anyway?”

“I’m here for an interview,” Harry tried to keep his voice calm, “I want to impress them. I don’t dress like I just rolled out of bed.”

“You would if you had the hangover I do.”

“Lord, you’re quite impossible - aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” the boy nodded as if Harry had just paid him the highest compliment he was already well aware of, “Well, I can just tell your right now. No one wants some stuffy hipster working here. We got enough of those.”

“Do you work here?"

“No, but I can tell you what New York wants in their hip journalism scene and it’s _not_ someone who looks tweleve but dresses like they’re thirty-seven.”

“I’m twenty-three, thank you very much.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Oh my God,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned around to head back out to the couch to wait for his interview. To his shock and dismay, the boy actually followed him. Followed him! Harry sunk down on the couch, wishing he could just leave him alone.

“If you don’t work here, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, and this his mouth went dry. Perhaps this person was here for an interview as well, his competition. Harry suddenly felt really uneasy.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the boy sneered, sitting down beside him, “Drink your overly sweet coffee, darling.”

“Okay one, I like my coffee sweet. And two, do not call me darling!”

“I can call you whatever I like.”

“No, actually you can’t. God, you’re such a spoiled brat!”

“Never said I wasn’t,” the boy shrugged, accepting the opinion of him.

“You...you’re kind of infuriating, you do know that, right? Hell, you probably pride yourself on it, don’t you?”

“Ah-hem,” someone coughed from the hall and Harry glanced up quickly, “Mr. Styles, are you quite ready for your interview?” Marsha Landers. Harry felt his throat grow tight. He nodded, blushing furiously, and stood from the couch.

“Good luck then,” the boy gave him a thumbs up sign and Harry had to suppress the urge to push that thumb back until it broke. He really was quite a patient person. He was. He was zen. He did yoga. He listened to sleep sounds and lit scented candles and was a pretty easy going guy. But something about that boy just rubbed him the wrong way. And that kind of scared him.

Marsha Landers led him into her office and asked him to have a seat, “I see you met Louis, then.”

“Louis?” Harry raised a brow, “Is that what you call it?” He felt bad the second he said it. That’d been so unprofessional. God. Okay. There was no way he was going to get the job now. He’d just metaphorically shot himself in the foot. Real nice, Styles.

Marsha just let out a soft laugh. Okay. Well maybe that was a good sign. “He’s quite the handful, that one,” she nodded, “When can you start?”

“Excuse me?” Harry raised a brow.

“Can you start today then?”

“I-I guess so. Yeah! Definitely! But you haven’t even…”

“You’re fine,” Marsha smiled warmly, and Harry felt a bit more at ease, “You’re actually perfect for the job from what I just saw. Louis is a handful. No one has ever really stood up against him. Except his father. But that man just goes about it all the wrong way. Anyway, from how I saw you interact with him, you’re perfect.”

Harry was confused and said as much.

“I’m sorry,” Marsha laughed, “I should have _explained_. Louis is a handful, like I said. But he’s lined up to take over his father’s company. TomCorp. And a lot of people are angered about that. They think he’s going to run the company into the ground. Which may not be surprising if he did. Anyway…”

“TomCorp?” Harry raised a brow, “As in…”

“The Tomlinson family. Harry Styles, you just met Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry felt sick to his stomach. He’d heard the Tomlinson name constantly since arriving in NYC. They were almost up there with the Trumps. And Harry felt suddenly dizzy. He’d seen Louis’ face plastered all over the tabloids. How had he not recognized the boy today? He felt sick. Breathe, Harry. Just breathe. In and out. There you go.

“I’ll fill you in more then,” Marsha nodded thoughtfully, “Mr. Tomlinson - Louis’ father - is going to have Louis take over the company in a few years. And a lot of people are scared. They’re withdrawing their investments and the company is losing money. So Mr. Tomlinson wants someone to write an article on his son. He wants someone to shadow him for awhile and write on how Louis is trying to turn his life around. How he’s not the flamboyant party boy he was yesterday. How he’s very serious and settled down now…”

“But...that’s a lie, isn’t it?” Harry’s brows furrowed.

Marsha pulled up a presentation on her computer - headlines. Harry read each one carefully:

TOMLINSON JR. REEKS HAVOC AT CLUB 7...

LOUIS T AT IT AGAIN: BAR BRAWL...

LOUIS TOMLINSON ARRESTED AFTER WILD NIGHT OF PARTYING...

LOUIS TOMLINSON LEAVES HOTEL WITH MYSTERIOUS BLONDE...

LOUIS TOMLINSON CAUGHT WITH TUPPERWARE OF WEED, IS THIS THE DOWNFALL OF THE TOMLINSON NAME...

LOUIS TOMLINSON WILL DRIVE TOMCORP INTO THE GROUND...

LOUIS TOMLINSON...

Harry had had enough.

“Okay,” he held up a hand, “So you want me to shadow Louis around and write an article about how he’s settled down and cleaned up his act, even though he’s done none of those things? I’m sorry. But I am not a liar. And I will not lie to protect the Tomlinson Name.”

“Understandable,” Marsha nodded, “I’ve known the Tomlinson family for quite awhile now. Louis isn’t a bad kid, Harry. He’s not. He’s just a handful. And he needs guidance. He has the capabilities of being a good leader. His father...I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “I’m just a little emotionally invested in this family. The thing is...he needs someone to stand up against him. He needs someone to tell him no. And not in the way his father used to,” she sighed before cotinuing, “You showed me you could do that today. You weren’t intimidated by him.”

“I didn’t even know that was him,” Harry protested, “I...I don’t think I can do what you’re asking of me.”

“You can, Harry. I know you can. I’ve done my research on you. You’re a good kid. Stayed out of trouble your whole life. Smart too. You can be good for him. I want you to shadow him and work on the article. Just focus on the real person behind the headline, right? Show the public he’s a human being, okay? And maybe...maybe help him?”

“I’m not going to play babysitter to a rich kid who thinks he owns the world,” Harry protested, “He’s trouble, Marsha.”

“He’s not though,” she insisted, “He just needs someone to believe in him. And I think you’re that person. You’re strong enough to stand up against him. Tell him no when he needs to hear it. And support him. And you are a great writer, Harry. See this as a trial. If you can do what I am asking of you, there will be a permanent slot on our team for you. Louis just needs the media to portray him as human for once. And I think you’re the one to do that.”

“Before I agree to this,” Harry paused, because quite frankly, he had no idea what to do, “Tell me very clearly what it is you want me to do. I am not going to be a glorified babysitter. And I am not going to write a lie. And why do you think I’ll be good for this? He and I were already at each other’s throats after five seconds.”

“Okay,” Marsha nodded, “Fair enough. You’re going to be spending every day for the next three weeks with Louis. You’re going to get to know him up close and personal. You’re going to write your article about the person behind the headline - the human being. You’re going to get to know that person. And if you can, you’re going to help guide him into being the person who I know he can be. Who will be capable of running TomCorp. That’s why he was here today. I just concluded a meeting with his primary advisor, Simon. He’ll be the one you’ll see the most of, besides Louis. You won’t have much interaction with Louis’ father, Steve, however. Which, you can consider, to be a good thing.”

Harry bothered his lower lip between his teeth. What was he even doing agreeing to this? It was going to be a disaster. He could already tell. Louis Tomlinson was more than a handful. Louis Tomlinson was a nightmare, an utter menace. There was no way Harry could be expected to sort of watch over and guide him. Much less write an article veiling Louis in a positive light. Harry thought of the cheap magazines he’d seen at the grocery counter the other day. All of them had headlines about Louis’ latest spot of trouble - a press conference where he had said “Fuck him and fuck this” in regards to his father and TomCorp. Harry took a deep breath. What the hell was he doing?

He didn’t _need_ this job. He had a pretty solid thing going at the bakery. He didn’t need to work for Syndrome. Sure, it was sort of a dream of his. But what was that quote about dreams and apple pies? Or was it hopes and apple pies? Harry bit down on his lip, hard. As if trying to stop himself from saying the inevitable -

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

\--

“It means a lot to us that you’ve agreed to this,” Simon said. Harry had found himself in the back of a car, with Simon Cowell sitting across from him. A partition separating them from the driver. Simon was a little worrisome at first. He seemed very commanding and Harry was already nervous beyond all belief.

“I-I’ll try to do my best,” Harry stammered. Because really, what the fuck was he even doing here? There was no way he could try to portray Louis in a positive light. And he sure as hell couldn’t get Louis to settle down and be a better man. And that wasn’t even his job to do. Except. Well. Now it was. And Louis was the only thing that stood in between him and his dream job. And now that Harry had had a taste of it, he wanted it. He wanted it so bad. So Louis Tomlinson was going down. One way or another, Harry was going to complete his mission. That slot at Syndrome was his.

“When we get to Louis’ I’ll introduce you. He took one of his several cars ahead of us. So he should be there by now. Especially with how that boy drives. If he weren't a bloody Tomlinson, his license would have been suspended a _long_ time ago. Anyway, he lives in a penthouse on Madison. He has two best friends, Liam and Zayn. They’re always over that they might as well just move in. But yeah, you should meet them today. It’d be ideal if you could move in with Louis as well. But I understand if that’s asking too much.”

“Pretty much everything you’re asking of me is too much,” Harry mumbled, fumbling his fingers in his lap, “I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon.” Harry was intimidated by the man in sunglasses and black v-neck. But he also seemed like the type you could talk to if you sincerely had an issue. And Harry could tell already that Simon genuinely cared for Louis. After all, Marsha had told Harry it’d been Simon who had pressed for the article the most.  

“I know that,” Simon nodded, understandingly, “but think of this as a mutual arrangement. You do this for me, and you get your dream job. And I get to see my boy’s image improve. He doesn’t need any more bad press. He needs good press. He needs to convince people he’s got this.”

“Well then maybe he shouldn’t go out and start bar fights.”

“Duly noted,” Simon noted, and his voice was unreadable, “I’ve been with Louis’ family since the start. I used to be Steve’s roommate in college. He’s not the guy I used to know, Harry. I’ll tell you that now. And he doesn’t deserve that boy of his. But he’s got him regardless. And maybe that’s the way Louis is the way he is. He just needs more positive people in his life. You help me with that, and the job at Syndrome is yours.”

Harry nodded. He’d do whatever it took.

Even if that meant lying about Louis Tomlinson being a good person (which Harry sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to do). Even if that meant being a glorified babysitter. He’d do whatever it took.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry see's Louis' place for the first time. Louis ends up actually being endearing. And Harry feels himself slowly getting in over his head. But Louis' just a job. That is all. Nothing more. Oh, and Harry just so happens to move into Louis' penthouse as well. So that's a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the positive feedback so far! I wanted to make this chapter a little bit longer, but alas, life! So this will be a shorter chapter than what I'd like. The next one should be longer though. I wish I could say I have a set update schedule. But just know that I do update either once a day or at the very least once every 3-4 days.
> 
> Again thank you guys so much! You all are so awesome!

The penthouse was unlike anything Harry had ever seen before. It was on the upper level of the building and was massive. Right away he noticed the windows - windows seemed to wrap around the whole apartment. And Harry was breathless at the view. The floor was white marble. There was a freaking marble fountain in the living room. And Harry duly noted the rubber duck floating in it. The whole place seemed as though it’d been ripped from an expensive furniture catalog - modern, sharp edges, leather, white, black, stylish.

“Sylvia comes in and cleans once a week,” Simon explained, “So that’s why it looks so neat. Louis doesn’t allow her in his bedroom though. That room always looks like a tornado just swept through. But he refuses to let her clean there. He’d probably refuse to let her clean any of this if it weren’t for Steve on his case about it,” Simon sighed and glanced around the living room, motioning for Harry to come on out of the entry way.

Harry gasped when he saw the kitchen. Everything was black and stainless steel. There was a gas stove, and a massive oven. There was a marble island in the middle of the kitchen. Harry ran his hand along the cold marble. It was beautiful. He wanted to cook there.

“Does he cook?” Harry asked, admiring the massive oven. Oh the recipes he could make with a kitchen like that!

“Only cereal and soup,” Simon rolled his eyes.

“Now that’s just a sin,” Harry almost cried as he shook his head in disbelief at the gorgeous kitchen. How could someone have such a gorgeous kitchen and only bother with cereal and soup? Harry wanted to roll out homemade pastas and bake massive batches of cupcakes. He quickly reminded himself that he was not moving in. Simon had made it an option. But. Just. No. Harry was _not_ going to do that.

“What’s a sin?” Louis sauntered from what Harry was assuming was the master bedroom. He still looked the same as before at Sydrome, except he’d kicked off his shoes and was now just wearing black Nike socks. He ran a hand through his mussed up hair and stifled a yawn behind, what Harry realized, was a rather dainty wrist. He looked as though he belonged in a trashy college dorm as opposed to this multi-million dollar penthouse.

“The fact that you have this kitchen and only ‘cook’ cereal and soup,” Harry shook his head, “Makes me want to cry, honestly.”

Louis shrugged casually, “If I tried to cook anything I’d burn the place down to the fucking ground. Soup and cereal’s safe.”

“Absolute shame,” Harry muttered, and slid his hand along the counter one last time as he stepped out towards the living room to join Simon and Louis.

“So I take it you said yes to this arrangement?” Louis cocked a hip out and rested a hand on it. Harry took a deep breath and nodded because Jesus, did he _have_ to stand like that? Like. Was that even necessary? Of course it wasn’t. No one had to stand like that.

“If it’ll get me a position at Syndrome, yes,” Harry shrugged, trying not to watch as Louis lifted that dainty wrist with that tiny hand and flicked the fringe from his eyes with a tiny swoop.

“So you’ll be my shadow for the next few weeks, then?” Harry just nodded and Louis practically sneered, “We’ll see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s brows knitted together.

“Just...if you can keep up,” Louis folded his arms across his chest and lifted a brow as if skeptical. He thought Harry would quit on him. But Harry was determined to get that slot at Syndrome. So quitting just wasn’t an option. No matter what Louis did or said.

“You should probably move in here then. I keep odd hours. If you’re going to shadow me, you should be available at all times then.”

Harry glanced around the living room one more time. His eyes swept over to the massive flat screen TV hanging on a wall. It was almost the size of a movie theater screen. Okay. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. But it was pretty damn big. Harry bit down on his bottom lip. Would it really be the worst thing in the world if he did stay here for the next few weeks?

“I’ll show you where you’ll stay,” Louis grabbed Harry’s wrist and yanked him towards a hallway as Simon sat down on a sofa.

Harry opened his mouth to protest - he hadn’t even agreed to move in yet - but didn’t really know how to compose words. The hand on his wrist was electrifying. Louis was a force of electricity. A live wire. Harry gulped. He knew he was in trouble. Louis was a menace and a nightmare. Did he have to be so bloody endearing to boot?

Louis dragged Harry down the hallway passing several closed off rooms. Finally they came to one door and Louis opened it excitedly, his hand still on Harry’s wrist as he pulled him inside. Harry couldn’t help but gasp. The room was massive. There was a large king sized bed against one wall with a black and white chic floral duvet. The pillows and sheets were black as well. The dresser was a glossy black and there was a massive TV on top of the dresser. There was a bloody fucking fireplace along one wall and what looked like a Jackson Pollock painting above the bed.

“Your room,” Louis said, giddily, still holding on to Harry’s wrist, “Like it?”

“It’s...amazing.”

“Good!” Louis looked pleased, “I have many guest rooms. Well, not _many_. But a few. My friends Liam and Zayn usually stay over. But they share a room because I know better than to try to separate those two,” Louis chuckled, “And then there’s this one. It’s one of my favorites because of the fireplace. It works, by the way. So feel free. Also, the TV gets all channels plus HBO, Showtime, whatever porn you’re into, classic movies, yada yada yada,” Louis was almost more excited about this than Harry.

“It’s great, Lou, really,” Harry said, not sure where the nickname came from, “But I haven’t even agreed to move in yet. I have a roommate. I have all my things at my own place. And I don’t even know you…”

“Hush,” Louis waved him off, finally dropping his wrist and Harry felt naked without Louis’ touch, “You can bring over whatever you’d like. And your roommate can come by for visits and to stay the night too if he’d like sometimes. Just give me a heads up, yeah? Look, I know I’m being intense. But...everyone thinks they know me. Louis Tomlinson the party boy. Louis Tomlinson the whore. Louis Tomlinson the trash who should have been a stain on his dad’s bed sheets,” Harry’s skin prickled as Louis casually spoke so hatefully about himself, “They think they know me. They all think they know me. Liam knows me. Zayn too. Simon. Marsha. Hopefully you too. I need more people in my corner, Harold. It’s kind of a lonely corner.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, because how could he say no now, “I’ll move in I guess. Just for the next few weeks. Just to shadow you and get to know you more. For the article. To...impress Syndrome.”

“Yay!” Louis clasped his little hands together and a huge grin broke out across his face and the only word in Harry’s mind was - _sunshine_.

“I know I’m being intense,” Louis rolled his eyes slightly, more at himself than anything, “It’s just…”

“It gets lonely in your corner,” Harry finished for him, understanding. Because frankly, how could it not be lonely. Everyone making assumptions based on what they’ve read in the tabloids. And hadn’t Harry done that exact same thing? Already he was seeing a different side of Louis Tomlinson. A side that completely and utterly endeared him. _Sunshine_.

“Exactly, Harold,” Louis placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Thanks.”

“It’s just...Harry. Actually.”

“Right,” Louis nodded, jostling his shoulder slightly before letting go, “I’ll have my driver take you back to your place to collect your things, yeah? Oh, and tonight I’m going out to the clubs. So be sure to dress appropriately. No more penny loafers for you, Harold.”

\--

“Louis fucking Tomlinson!” Niall Horan shouted and Harry winced as he folded some t-shirts to put into his duffle, “Louis fucking Tomlinson! You’re kidding me, right? You go to a job interview and now you’re whisked off to live the high life! You’ll forget us little guys in no time, Mr. Big Shot!”

“I’m not a big shot, Niall. I just have to shadow him around a bit. And write an article about him. That’s all.”

“And you get to stay in a penthouse and go clubbing with Louis Tomlinson!”

Harry rolled his eyes. But yeah, it was pretty awesome. He had to admit. “He invited you,” Harry said, putting the shirts in the duffle and heading down to the bathroom to prepare a bag of toiletries - Niall on his heels.

“Excuse me?”

“To come stay over sometime. He said just to let him know in advance.”

“Okay, he’s the fucking best!”

“He’s trouble,” Harry shook his head, dropping some soap and deodorant into the bag, “I can just tell. He seems okay. But he has a reputation for a reason. I don’t know. It’s weird. Like today I found myself being completely endeared by the kid, and completely annoyed by him.”

“Maybe you’ll snag yourself a billionaire, H. How awesome would that be?” Niall leaned against the door frame as Harry continued packing, “I mean, you’re already moving in with the lad.”

“To work on an article. It’s all a job, Niall. Louis Tomlinson is my _job_. Nothing more.”

“Sure,” Niall giggled, opening up a drawer and digging out Harry’s stash of lube and condoms, “Pack up, H. Just to be on the safe side.”

“I am _not_ taking lube and condoms!” Harry shoved them back inside the drawer.

Niall doubled over laughing, “Right. Because he’s a billionaire. He probably has like...his own sex shop in the bedroom closet.”

“Niall!” Harry groaned, because that most certainly was _not_ a path he was going to go down. Nope. _Absolutely not._

Niall was still laughing as Harry tossed his toiletries bag into the duffle and zipped it up. Harry shook his head. Louis Tomlinson was a job. Nothing more. Besides, there was no way Harry was going to let himself get mixed up with the biggest playboy in New York City. He knew better than that. And he knew from what he’d seen in the papers, with Louis Tomlinson, it was a different guy every weekend night. Sometimes during the week as well. So Harry just knew not to get mixed up in that world.

Nope. He was just going to move in for three weeks and work on his article - shadow Louis around and try not to let him get too far under his skin.

Easy enough, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry experiences his first night on the town with Louis, Zayn, and Liam. He gets to bond with Liam and Zayn, and sees numerous sides to Louis Tomlinson. Each second that passes, he seems to learn more and more about who Louis really is. But at the same time, he is still such a mystery. Harry is falling fast and is in too deep. There's no going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A longer chapter! I worked really hard on this so I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Warnings: Hints at previous child abuse, a scene in which someone tries to pressure Louis into sex. 
> 
> Anyway, I do really hope you all enjoy this chapter! Kudos, bookmarks, and comments make my day <3

Harry knew how to dress. Button downs and penny loafers were most certainly not his everyday attire. And he knew how to dress for a night out on the town. He shimmied into his tightest black skinny jeans - the ones that barely fit at all - and pulled a flowy black button down with silver sparkly skulls over his head. He only buttoned the bottom two buttons. Then he pulled on his favorite boots - black with silver hardware. And before heading out to the living area, he looked over at his reflection. Okay. He wasn’t blind. Harry knew he was attractive. Maybe Louis would think so too.

He shook the thought from his head because, no. He was not going down that path. Instead though, he looked over his reflection once more, frowned, and then dug around in his duffle for the tube of YSL Babydoll mascara. He applied two coats to his lashes and smiled at his reflection. Much, much better. Okay. Now he was ready to go.

He headed out towards the living area and found Louis sitting on the couch, scrolling through Instagram on his iPhone. When Louis glanced up, his eyes widened to twice their usual size and Harry felt quite accomplished. Louis himself was wearing a plain white t-shirt with dark grey skinny jeans, slip ons, and a green army jacket. His fringe was swept to the side. His look said casual, but Harry could just tell. Louis had put effort into his appearance.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis shook his head, “What, can’t figure out how buttons work?”

“I _like_ this look,” Harry squared his shoulders, not backing down. Louis stood from the couch, tossing his phone to the cushion. He walked over to Harry and stood so close to him that Harry could feel his breath. Louis lifted one finger and trailed it down Harry’s bare chest. He tried to keep his breathing level. Tried not to let Louis see what this was doing to him. Jesus Christ though. Did he have to do that?

“Buttons are not that complicated to figure out, Harold,” Louis licked his lips, not taking his eyes off Harry’s chest. His phone pinged from the cushion and Louis frowned. He backed away from Harry and swept his eyes upward to meet his, “But you don’t look _too_ shabby. I won’t make you go change or anything.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Louis was already grabbing his phone from the couch and texting someone back. “Liam and Zayn are ready to go. The limo is downstairs. We’ll go pick them up at their place, and then head out for the night. If you get tired or anything, you can just let me know. I’ll have Dennis, my driver, bring you back here.”

“I think I can handle staying out late, Lewis,” Harry scowled. Because, _really?_ It wasn’t as if he’d never gone out before. He’d gone out loads of times. He and Niall liked to go out to the sports bar to watch matches. And back home he’d gone out late to numerous parties. He wasn’t a stranger to it. But Louis just stared at him as though he didn’t quite believe him. And Harry hated that.

Downstairs, Louis introduced Harry to Dennis and to Paul - Louis’ security detail. Harry couldn’t believe Louis Tomlinson had his own bodyguard. But then again, he kind of could. Louis hardly looked like a billionaire, but he was. He was the heir to a fortune and a massive company. He held the world in his tiny little hands.

Louis nodded for Harry to climb into the limo first. Harry had never been in a limo before. It was a Hummer Stretch and Harry had never seen anything like it before. It was massive on the inside. There were lights going around ceiling that flashed to the beat of whatever music was playing. There was a fridge with champagne and chilled wines. The seats were beautiful leather. It was amazing. And Harry tried to memorize every detail so he could be sure to tell Niall everything.

“Do you take a limo every time you go out?” Harry asked, still in shock.

Louis shrugged, “Sometimes. Sometimes we just take the town car or I’ll drive us in one of mine while Paul follows behind. But I figured tonight we could do with the limo.”

Harry tried not to imagine Louis requesting a limo with him in mind. But it was a little difficult not to. He just picked at a hangnail and continued to glance around as Louis found some music on his iPhone and plugged it into the speakers.

“Tell me about yourself,” Louis said calmly, folding his hands in his lap.

“I’m the journalist,” Harry smirked, “Shouldn’t _I_ be the one asking _you_ questions?”

“Fair enough. But I beat you to the punch. So...tell me about yourself, Harold.”

“What do you want to know?” Harry asked, feeling rather on the spot.

“Anything. I want to know who is going to be living with me and following me around for three weeks. That a crime, Harold?”

“N-no. Um...well I’m from England. I studied journalism. Then I moved over here. I’ve always wanted to come to New York. It’s always been a dream of mine. I met my roommate on Craigslist but he’s really awesome. His name is Niall. He’s really cool. And not a bad roommate at all. I work at a bakery right now. But hopefully I can start at Syndrome soon.”

Louis noded, taking in everything Harry said. And that kind of surprised him. Louis looked as though each word Harry uttered was of some huge importance. Then he said, “Do you miss it? Your home?”

“This is my home now,” Harry explained, “But yeah, sometimes. I miss my mom and my dad. And my sister, Gemma. They’re pretty much my whole world.”

“Must be nice,” Louis said, and his voice sounded far away.

Harry just nodded. He didn’t want to press Louis about his family. Something unspoken between the two of them had told him he shouldn’t. So he didn’t. Instead he said -

“So, where are we going tonight?’

“Club Seven,” Louis explained, “We reserve the VIP lounge. But sometimes I can sneak away from this one,” Louis jerked his head towards Paul who was sitting in the back of the limo on his phone, “ _If_ I’m lucky.” Paul just rolled his eyes.

“I-I’ve seen headlines,” Harry dropped his head, embarrassed for even mentioning it, “Is it really as bad as they say?”

“Harold,” Louis leaned back against his seat across from Harry, then leaned forward and put his hands on Harry’s knees. Again, the touch was electric and Harry tried not to react to it, “I’m going to make this _very_ clear,” he gripped Harry’s knees a little tighter, “They do not know me. These tabloids do not know me. They have this _character_ of me. That’s who they write about. It’s not really me. I go out to a club. I dance with an attractive boy. A guy calls me a faggot. A turn around and tell him to fuck off. He shoves me. I punch him. I’m led out of the club by security. And the next day the papers splash that I’ve started a drunken bar brawl. Now tell me, where is the truth in any of that?”

Harry inhaled sharply. As a journalist, he’d been taught there’s two sides to every story. But sometimes that was easy to forget. Louis’ side of things had never been told. Always the side of the press. Always the side with this character they’d created. Harry made a mental note to mention that in his article. Because that just wasn’t right.

“Is that what happend?” Harry asked quietly.

“Maybe,” Louis answered, his voice even quieter. He pulled away from Harry, leaning back against his seat, “Not like anyone would believe me anyway. I’m the party animal. I’m the one who is antagonistic. I start fights. I get thrown out of places. That’s the character. If I ever told my side, no one would even believe it.”

“I would,” Harry said, “I would believe you.”

Louis nodded, saying nothing else until they reached the Liam and Zayn’s apartment. The limo pulled up to the curb and Zayn and Liam climbed inside. Louis introduced Harry to them and they both shook his hand. Harry liked them immediately. Zayn was possibly _almost_ the most gorgeous boy Harry had ever seen. Louis being the most gorgeous of course. And Liam was so sweet. He shook Harry’s hand and made an effort to sit next to him and introduce himself. Harry loved them. He still only really knew Niall here. And meeting more people, especially people who made him feel so welcome, was a huge relief.

“We really appreciate what you’re doing here,” Liam said, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Zayn nodded in agreement as Zayn continued, “Any press that is on Louis’ side is welcome. And you’re not what I was expecting. When Simon mentioned having press shadow Lou, we thought it’d be someone…”

“Older,” Zayn clarified.

Harry smiled, “Louis is convinced I look like I’m twelve.”

“Not in that shirt though,” Louis raised a brow, “When I met him, he was in a dress shirt and penny loafers.”

“Yikes,” Zayn made a face.

“Penny loafers are not that bad,” Liam came to Harry’s defense, “And what were you wearing, Lou-bear? Did you even have shoes on?” Liam turned to Harry, “This one would go barefoot if it were allowed.”

Louis made a face, “I had on shoes, thank you very, _very_ much, Lima. I’m not a _complete_ degenerate.”

“Could have fooled me,” Liam giggled and shoved out of the way from Louis’ attempt at a punch.

And Harry watched, delighted by all of them. Louis especially. Harry noted that whenever Louis laughed, his eyes would crinkle, almost close entirely. But they’d sparkle. Actually sparkle. And Harry felt flushed.

When they got to the club, Paul led them inside. Harry drank everything in. The music was loud. The lights were flashing. It was packed with people. As they made their way towards the VIP private area, camera phones flashed. And Harry realized then that Louis was a celebrity. Of course, he knew that. But seeing all the flashing, hearing the people echo “Louis Tomlinson” Harry realized just how famous Lou was. Lou. Lou-bear. The boy in the socks with his mussed up hair who’d giggled and clapped his hands together. Louis Tomlinson the richest boy in New York City. Harry felt slightly faint.

They slid into a booth - red and black leather - and Louis placed an order for champagne. Harry gasped when he saw the label as it was brought to the table. The price for the bottle alone could pay his and Niall’s rent for two months!

“Louis, are you sure…” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Harold, shut the fuck up,” Louis was smiling from ear to ear, “If I didn’t want you to drink it, I wouldn’t have ordered it. Now drink your champagne. Enjoy yourself. Have fun!” Louis downed his champagne in one swoop before hopping up from the table and heading towards the dance floor with Paul close behind.

“Don’t question it,” Liam leaned into Harry, “He loves to spoil his friends.”

Friends. Did that mean Harry fell into that category?

“He lives for it,” Zayn added, “Trust me. We’ve tried to turn him down sometimes. But it just hurts him. He loves doing this stuff for his loved ones. It’s how he shows love.”

Harry nodded, accepting that explanation. Wondering though if Louis could ever love him as well?

Where were these thoughts coming from though? Harry sipped the champagne. Louis Tomlinson was his _job_. His _assignment_. Not something to be crushing over. And this is what this was. A silly little crush. It was hard not to have a crush on Louis. Harry was quite certain anyone who’d ever met Louis had felt some sort of attraction to him. That was just the type of person Louis was. And Harry just needed to get past that and focus. Focus on his assignment.

Harry glanced up, looking around to see where Louis had gone. After all, he was his assignment. Right? And saw him dancing with a blonde boy. A very pretty blonde boy. Harry frowned and took another sip of his champagne.

“Mate,” Zayn nudged Harry, “Hey.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, wondering if he was being too obvious.

“It’s okay,” Liam laughed, “But just fair warning, Louis is a natural-born flirt. He can and will make anyone feel special if they let him. You seem to fancy him a bit though, yeah?”

“He’s just my assignment,” Harry mumbled, taking another sip. Hoping to dodge any more questions.

Zayn laughed, “Oh you have it bad, huh?”

“I only just met him today,” Harry protested, “I don’t even know him. Besides...he’s just my assignment. My job here is to shadow him, get to know him, and write about him. The person I get to know, not the character the tabloids think they know. And then get my job at Syndrome and be done with it. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Liam giggled, pressing into Zayn.

“Besides,” Harry grumbled, “He’s Louis Tomlinson.”

“As if that means anything,” Zayn rolled his eyes, “Harry, love. I am an artist. I wish I could say I was famous. But I’m not. I just do some gallery showings. I work at an elementary school as an art teacher to make ends meet. But Louis...he saw some of my stuff online. Came to a showing and invited some of the richest art fanatics in the city. He got my name out there. Did that for me. Didn’t even know me then. He just _did_ that. Liam and I certainly are not wealthy or famous. But Louis just likes us. He doesn’t care who you are or what your name is or the money in your bank account. He just likes who he likes. If he decides he’s going to be your friend, that’s that.”

Liam nodded, “Want to know how I met Louis?”

“How?” Harry asked, glancing back to see Louis now grinding on the blonde.

“Okay,” Liam leaned in slightly, “So Louis went to boarding school as a teenager, right? Kingswright Academy. I worked at a record store in town. And he’d come in every weekend to buy new records. Widest taste in music, that one. Anyway, our tastes differ though. And we’d always argue about music. Like really get into it. So much so that one day we were almost shouting at each other. Because Lou has a way to get under your skin. My boss almost fired me on the spot and Louis totally flipped shit. He started apologizing, saying how he was at fault and that I should most certainly not be fired. And my boss just sort of shrugged and walked off. And Louis turned to me and goes ‘You and I are going to be friends, Lima Bean. You better just deal with it.’ And that was that. We were like fifteen at the time. Been best friends since.”

“So he introduced you two?” Harry asked, still sort of amazed by Liam’s story. That sounded like Louis. Harry didn’t really know Louis, but it did sound like him. And besides, with each second that passed Harry was knowing Louis more and more.

“Mmhmm,” Zayn nodded, leaning his head on Liam’s shoulder.

“Told me he’d met a boy,” Liam ran his fingertips along Zayn’s back, “That I just _had_ to meet. He’s really good, Harry. One of the bests. It’s unfair how the media treats him. See to it that you make that change. Or at least make it better. Show the world who Louis Tomlinson really is. Because this is affecting him.”

“His dad’s company is losing money because of the public’s view on Lou,” Zayn sighed, “And his dad isn’t the person you cross, ever. He’s stressed and upset beyond what he’ll let anyone see. Help him, Harry. He needs you. _We_ need you.”

Harry nodded, “I will do what I can.”

The night progressed. Louis ordered more food and more champagne and Harry was amazed by the costs of everything, but didn’t argue or object. And Harry watched in awe at how animated Louis was. He talked loudly, laughed loudly. He even talked with his hands using wild gestures making him even bigger and even louder. And then his disappeared back on the dance floor with the blonde.

“If he comes home with him,” Liam put a hand on Harry’s shoulder again, “Don’t read too much into it. He usually always pulls when we go out. We usually don’t stay with him those nights. But you have TV in your room, right? Just put on a movie or something and go to bed. Don’t ask him questions about it. Just pretend it doesn’t happen, alright? It’s just something Lou has to do.”

Harry nodded, and tried not to let that upset him too much. He had no right to be upset about it at all anyway. Louis Tomlinsons’ sex life was his business and his business alone. Harry had no right to feel any sort of jealousy or angsty feelings whatsoever. They left the club - Louis with his arm wrapped around the blonde’s waist - and headed back to the limo. Louis and the blonde sat alone in the back. Paul set up closer to the front. Liam, Zayn, and Harry sat in the middle. Harry tried not to glance back at Louis. He really did. But sometimes he couldn’t help it.

He saw Louis touch the blonde’s cheek. He saw him run a hand through his hair. And he saw them kiss. His cheeks flushed and he felt the blood in his veins fizzle and turn to soda. This was a nightmare. He shouldn’t be feeling these things. He couldn’t be feeling these things. Louis Tomlinson was an assignment. That was all. _Just a job._ Nothing more.

Liam and Zayn got out once the Limo pulled up to their apartment. They hugged Harry goodbye and Liam shot him a sympathetic glance. Louis was too busy groaning into the blonde’s mouth to notice them take their leave. Harry just sighed and shrugged at Liam. Because frankly, what could he do about any of it?

It was Louis’ life. Louis was free to do whatever he wanted, right? Held the entire fucking world in his tiny little hands.

The limo came to Louis’. Paul and Harry stepped out. Harry followed behind Louis and the blonde, keeping his head down as they touched and giggled. This was bad. So fucking bad. He was so in over his head right now. He’d only just met Zayn and Liam and even they seemed to pick up on that. Hell, he’d only just met Louis. What the fuck was he even doing with these feelings he had no right to?

Once at Louis’ Louis opened the door and stepped inside. He whispered something to the blonde and pointed down the hall. Harry leaned against the kitchen counter, fumbling with his fingers as Louis approached him. Louis lifted Harry’s chin with his finger and Harry gasped a little at the unexpected touch. The hell was Louis doing? Go off and be with your boy, Harry wanted to bark.

“This is how this is going to work,” Louis said, raising a brow, “You’re going to get a bottle of water from the fridge and a snack or two. Then you’re going to go to your room. And you’re going to put on a movie loud and watch it. And you’re going to use the bathroom that connects to your room. You’re not to come out of your room until I knock on your door sometime tomorrow. So grab your rations and hunker down.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Harold. I am most certainly not. Now then, grab what you need. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis turned to head down the hall but paused. He turned back around and said, “Hey, Harry?”

“Yeah, Lou?”

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Louis asked, and Harry noted how his brow was creased with visible concern.

“Of course, Lou. It was great! Everything was great! That champagne…”

Louis laughed, throwing his head back, eyes crinkling and sparkling, “Nectar of the Gods, that is!" He sobered a bit, and cleared his throat, "Well...good night, Harold.”

“Good night, Lewis.”

Louis smiled sweetly before turning back around. Harry did as Louis had instructed. He grabbed two water bottles from the fridge along with an orange and a bag of pretzels from the pantry. He slipped into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. For some reason, he locked it. Then he fiddled with the television, trying to figure out the remote. There was giggling from the room across from his. Harry grimaced as he finally managed to turn the TV on. Louis had Netflix. Harry searched for Breaking Bad and began the first episode - what, he wanted to rewatch the series - and began to undress.

“I said no!” A sharp voice said across the hall. Harry froze in the middle of pulling on his plaid pajama bottoms.

“Aw c’mon, Louis! What’s the problem?”

“The problem is I said no!” Harry felt the blood fizzle in his veins again. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He wondered if he should go out there and say something. But Louis had been very clear in his orders to stay put. Harry pulled on a t-shirt and wondered what the hell he should do.

“No one fucks with their shirt on,” the blonde scoffed, “What’re you trying to hide?”

“Nothing. Fucking nothing. Look. I made it clear to you. The shirt stays on. Either you accept that and we move on, or you get the fuck out!”

Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip. What the hell was going on? He should have gotten Zayn and Liam’s cell numbers. He could have texted them to ask them what to do in this situation. They would know. He felt completely in over his head. He turned down the volume on the TV so he could get a better listen.

“Just take your fucking shirt off!”

“Don’t you _fucking_ touch me! Don’t you _dare_ fucking touch me! I told you before we even got started to not lay a hand on my back. What part of that was confusing to you, James? Jesus!”

“You’re messed up, Louis. Royally. Just let me fuck you. Take your shirt off and let’s…”

“I said no!”

Harry had had enough. He opened the bedroom door and pounded on Louis’ door. Maybe Louis wouldn’t answer. Maybe he’d be pissed at Harry for interrupting. But either way, Harry wasn’t just going to stand by and listen to this.

Louis flung the door open and his eyes went wide when he saw Harry. He looked panicked and his eyes were rimmed red. Harry hated to see him like this. Stupid fucking James! Harry wanted to punch him in the jaw for making Louis like this.

“I think you need to go,” Harry said, locking his eyes onto James’.

“You don’t live here. You don’t tell me what to do!”

“I live here for the next three weeks,” Harry explained, “And I do tell you what to do when you’re upsetting my friend. He gave you boundaries. You either respect that, or get the fuck out of his home.”

James just shrugged, grabbed his own t-shirt off the edge of the bed and pushed past Harry. Harry followed him, watching him leave.

“Whatever,” James grumbled, slamming the door shut behind him as he left. Harry turned back around to see Louis leaning against the couch. He was wearing just a t-shirt and boxers. His hair was rumpled and his eyes were downcast. Harry noticed his shoulders were shaking.

“Lou…” Harry was by his side in a second, “Louis,” Harry ducked down to see Louis’ eyes. He was crying. Harry felt as though the wind had been punched out of him.

“No one sees my back. No one touches my back, _ever_ ,” Louis put his face in his hands and Harry reached out to gently place his hands on Louis’ shoulders, asking first -

“Can I?” Harry asked as he gently brushed his knuckles against Louis’ shoulders.

Louis nodded and Harry placed his hands on Louis’ shoulders. He wanted to hug him, but he remembered what Louis had said about his back. And he didn’t want to cross any lines. Though, after tonight, he had no idea what those lines even were.

“No one touches my back,” Louis sobbed into his hands.

“Of course not, Lou,” Harry rested his chin on Louis’ head, holding him as close to him as he could without touching his back, “Of course not.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam suggests a movie day for the guys. Louis let's Harry invite Niall. And Harry most certainly does NOT have butterflies in his stomach on account of Louis. Nope. Nope. Nope!

Harry led Louis back to the bedroom and eased him back into his bed. He made sure Louis had a cup of water by his bedside and that his pillows were fluffed up adequately. He was turning to leave, to go back to his room, but a small hand grasping at his wrist stopped him. He turned and Louis looked at him, eyes wide and pleading as he said -

“Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”

And that was all Harry needed to hear. He nodded once, crawling into bed beside Louis. Louis tucked his body up around Harry and Harry slowly brushed his fingertips through Louis’ wispy hair. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. As much as he’d convinced himself Louis Tomlinson was just a job, he knew that this was something way more. Lines had been crossed. Louis was no longer just an assignment. Harry sighed and listened to Louis’ breathing as it settled. He was getting calmer. Harry was doing that. Calming him down. Relaxing him.

“No one touches my back,” Louis insisted again, “No one sees me without my shirt on.”

“I know babe,” Harry said, and _babe?_ Where had that come from? But Louis just nuzzled closer and Harry felt something soften in the pit of his stomach. He felt warmth and softness like a blanket fresh from a dryer being wrapped around him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe,” Louis’ voice sounded so small, “But not just yet.”

“Okay then. When you’re ready.”

“Promise me something, Harry.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t...don’t put this in your article, okay? Don’t mention this.”

“I wouldn’t,” Harry’s voice was just as soft, “I wouldn’t do that to you, Lou.”

Louis relaxed again and Harry said, his voice almost a whisper, “Just get some sleep, okay? Just rest. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay here with you tonight. Just try to get some sleep, okay babe?”

When Louis did finally fall asleep, tucked under Harry’s arm, Harry grabbed his own cellphone off his nightstand. He opened up the Facebook app and searched around for a Liam Payne. He finally found Liam - his profile picture a goofy photo of himself, Zayn, and Louis. Harry friended him, and typed out a quick message -

_Hey. Something odd happened tonight. James’ pressured Louis to take his shirt off. Louis got really freaked out and I sent James away. Lou’s pretty shaken up about it. Staying with him in his room for the night. Helped him calm down. He didn’t want to be alone. Said he doesn’t want anyone touching his back. I just want to hold him close, but I don’t want to touch him where it’d upset him. Am I doing the right thing? I’m in his bed!!_

A few moments later, a red notification flag popped up over the app. Harry opened it and read Liam’s response -

_Jesus. Thanks, Harry! Thank you so much! Really. Zayn says thanks too for being there for him. Louis is dealing with a lot of stuff. Is he okay now? It means a lot to us that you’re there for him. About his back - you can cuddle him. He loves cuddles. Lives for them actually. And you can hug him. Just make sure it’s okay with him before you do. You have to have his permission first. Thank you so much for taking care of him._

Harry replied, _It’s not a problem at all. I was just worried about crossing a boundary. But then again, I am in his bed now._

_Sort of goes beyond him being just an assignment, huh? Think you’ve officially crossed over to being his friend. Well just be there for him. That’s all you can really do. If he wants to open up to you, he will on his own time. I’ll call him in the morning. Maybe the three of us can have like a movie day or something. Just chill. He probably won’t be up for going out much tomorrow. Thanks again for being so good to him, Harry. That means a lot._

Harry smiled and thanked Liam and put the phone back on the nightstand. He laid back against the pillows. Usually Harry preferred being the little spoon when it came to cuddles. But he could tell Louis needed to be held tonight.

"Can I hold you?" Harry leaned in close to Louis' ear.

"Mmm," Louis nodded.

Harry wrapped his body around Louis, holding him close. He breathed in Louis - a mix of fresh laundry detergent and a hint of cigarette smoke. He ran his fingertips through Louis’ wispy hair again. Be there for him. That’s what Liam had said. Be there for him.

Harry couldn’t do much, but he could do that. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

The next morning he awoke to Louis stirring next to him. Their legs had ended up tangled together. And Harry blinked himself awake to see Louis staring at him. He’d made no motion to untangle himself or scoot away from Harry. In fact, he appeared to lean in closer.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice feather-soft, “For last night.”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, making no effort to move either. They were so close that Harry could feel Louis’ breath against his lips.

“You’re different from other journalists,” Louis reached out and touched one of Harry’s curls. Harry tried not to shy away from the touch, but every time Louis touched him, it was electric, “I forget though, it’s your assignment to be different.”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “My assignment is to write about who you really are. I don’t have to befriend you to do that. But I am. I want to be your friend, Lou. I want to be there for you. In your corner. If you’ll let me.”

“I’ll let you,” Louis smiled, and it was absolute sunshine. Harry bit his bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. He noticed Louis was doing the same, blushing.

Louis’ phone buzzed on the nightstand. Louis turned away and Harry’s shoulders heaved slightly at the movement. The moment was broken. Harry decided he should probably get out of Louis’ bed now. This shouldn’t be an everyday thing, right? Harry felt confusion sweep over him. None of this was how he’d seen this playing out. He was supposed to write an article. Not fall for Louis, befriend him, sleep in his bed, and want to hold him in his arms and protect him from any and all dangers he may face. Nope. That certainly was not the plan at all.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, unable to force himself completely off the mattress. Louis was answering his phone now.

“Lima, hey! A movie day? Sounds fantastic!” His voice was upbeat, and Harry noted that Liam didn’t mention Harry having messaged him on Facebook. And he was grateful for that. That that moment was still something private between him and Louis. “What time will you and Zaynie be over? Okay, awesome! And you’re on snack duty, by the way! I expect junk food and lots of it, Payno!”

Louis hung up the call and turned back to Harry. His eyes were bright, sparkly orbs again, the creases around his eyes on full display and that smile that was the sun, “Payno and Zayn are coming over for a movie day! Now then, I’m going to get some clothes on and try to look a bit more presentable. I suggest that you give your Niall a phone call. Invite him over.”

“Really?” Harry felt warm again, “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Any friend of your’s is welcome in my home, Harold. Go on then, love. Give him a ring.”

 _Love._ Friend. Love. Harry’s head spun. He nodded, grabbed his cellphone, and ducked out down the hall to his own bedroom to call Niall.

“Oh, and Harold?” Louis peered around the doorframe, “Tell Nialler there that you and I will be picking him up in the Lambo if he says yes!”

Harry’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets. He dialled Niall and told him that he was invited over for movie day. And that - oh yeah, he and Louis would be picking him up in Louis’ Lamborghini. The same Lambo that’d been featured in numerous magazines - lime green with black and red leather interior. Harry laughed at Niall’s reaction upon being told that. And Harry was quite sure he’d probably just jizzed himself when he said -

“Um...are you fucking kidding me? _Of course!_ ”

Harry laughed. Louis was something else. Ready spoil anyone he cared about. And that really stuck out to Harry. He made a mental note of that as well. Louis Tomlinson would do whatever he could to make you, and your loved ones, happy. Harry quickly dressed. He tugged on a pair of blue skinny jeans and an over-sized white v-neck. He met Louis in the kitchen. Louis was dressed in basketball shorts, a black Adidas t-shirt, and slip ons. He had on a Vans snapback, worn backwards, on his head.

“You ready to get a move on, Harold?” Louis asked, putting a mug in the sink, “Let’s go show Nialler how we like to do it in style!”

Louis snatched a set of keys from a drawer by the front door and headed downstairs with Harry and Paul in tow. Paul veered off into a black Lincoln to follow close behind the Lambo. Louis led Harry to the carport and smiled as he presented him with his car. It was even more stunning in person. And Jesus, was it bright! Neon lime green had been no joke.

“What do you think, Harold? Do you approve?”

Harry let out a soft whistle as he circled the car, “It’s...amazing.”

“One of my more favorite toys, yes,” Louis grinned, unlocked it and opening the door. Harry stepped back, still not over the fact that the doors opened upwards. He’d never seen anything like this in person before. Louis slid casually into the driver’s seat, “Well, Harold. You up for it?”

Harry grinned, nodded, and slid into the passenger side. This was unreal. Niall was absolutely going to flip his shit over this. And Harry could hardly wait to see his face. Was this the pleasure Louis got out of doing things like this? Shocking and surprising others? Louis was certainly something else.

“Alright, give me your address then,” Louis typed in Harry’s response to the GPS system.

“Let me show you how this baby drives. And we will just see if Paul can keep up,” Louis giggled, backing the car out and speeding off.

Harry gripped onto the side of his door, a delighted smile on his face and Louis zipped in and out of the traffic. He was going fast, too fast. And his smile was the biggest Harry was sure he’d ever seen. Louis explained they were taking a bit of a detour to get out of the city streets. He sped down the road, laughing at Harry’s shocked face.

“What do you think, Harold?”

“I think you’re fucking insane!” Harry couldn’t help but laugh, “How do you even still have a license?”

Louis just shrugged, “Cops know better than to pull me over. My father...he donates a hefty sum to the police force every year. They don’t cross our family.”

“Seems a bit...wrong, don’t you think?” Harry frowned.

“Maybe,” Louis shrugged, “He’s gotten away with some fucked up shit. But after a certain age, I learned that I could get away with stuff too. So maybe it balanced out. Well, not really. Not even close. But if I can use my father’s name to get out of trouble, then I can’t complain too much.”

“Will I ever meet him?” Harry asked, “Your father?”

“Probably,” Louis sighed, “he likes to drop by unexpected to the apartment. Considering it’s his money that pays for it, I don’t have a right to ask him to hand over his key. He’ll stop in once or twice a week. And then during meetings I have to see him. You’ll probably meet him a few times over these next few weeks.”

“What’s he like?”

“ _Jesus,_ you and your questions this morning, Harold!” Louis laughed again, turning up the radio, but didn’t answer.

When they reached Harry and Niall’s apartment complex, Niall was downstairs at the curb waiting. When he saw the Lambo pull up, his eyes looked as though they were going to pop from their sockets. Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“That face, right there,” Louis grinned, nodding towards Niall, “Is why I love doing this stuff.”

Harry got out and Louis showed him how to pull his seat forward so Niall could crawl into the back. When he got settled and Harry climbed back into the passenger seat, Louis turned around and extended his hand to Niall.

“Nialler, nice to meet you!”

“Louis...Louis...Tomlinson,” Niall’s voice was breathy and Harry just threw his head back and laughed. Because just yesterday, he’d have probably been the same. Hell, he still couldn’t believe this was his life right now. But Louis was so unique. He had this way about him, making you feel as though you two were like childhood friends. And Harry was looking forward to watching Niall adjust to all this.

“That’s my name,” Louis grinned, “You like my car? Maybe just a smidgen?”

“Mmhmm,” was all Niall could manage. Harry laughed again.

“Oh, don’t poke fun at him, Harold,” Louis scolded, “You’re eyes looked like they were going to fall out just a few moments ago too.”

Harry frowned and Louis laughed, speeding off back down to his penthouse. Harry kept glancing back at Niall, who looked as though he’d just stepped into some alternate reality.

“Payno and Zayn are coming over in about thirty minutes,” Louis explained, “We’re going to eat our weight in junk, watch shitty movies, and just have a lads’ day. How does that sound?” He looked at Niall in the rear view mirror, but his hand fell to Harry’s knee, giving it a small squeeze. And Harry prayed he didn’t completely come unglued right then and there.

“Sounds great,” Niall nodded, somehow managing a whole sentence - even if it was just two words.

When they got back to the penthouse, Paul scolded Louis about his driving. He just laughed and told Paul, “Well then, you better learn how to keep up, old man!” Before giving Niall the grand tour. Harry noted that he didn’t grab on to Niall’s wrist like he had with him. Niall looked as though he still was in complete and utter shock. And Harry tried not to laugh because really. He still was too.

Liam and Zayn came over not much later. Both carrying grocery bags filled with different stuff. Louis ran over and began to dig through the bags the second they’d set them on the kitchen island. They’d brought over chips, candy, sodas, frozen pizzas, so much junk food. Harry couldn’t even remember the last time he ate junk food - he tended to be more of cold-pressed-veggie-juice guy himself. But the prospect of a movie and junk food day sounded good to him. Louis and Zayn were putting away the cold items and Niall was munching on a bag of M&Ms Louis had already opened and handed to him.

Liam grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pulled him away, whispering, “Thank you again for last night. He looks really happy today. Whatever you did...thanks.”

“I didn’t do much,” Harry shrugged, trying not to blossom too much under Liam’s words, “Just stayed with him.”

“Well, that was enough. I was worried he’d be in a sour mood today. But he seems really happy having you here. He’s like...lit up. Whatever it is you’re doing for him, keep it up!”

Harry nodded. The junk food was laid out on a coffee table in the living room. Louis was turning on the TV and the guys made themselves comfortable on the couches. Louis had several large sectional sofas wrapping in a square shape - the wall with the massive TV screen completing the square. Louis fiddled with the television a bit more before falling back against one of the sectionals. Liam and Zayn were sitting next to each other. When Harry got up to grab a Coke from the fridge, Niall sprawled out on the sofa they’d been sharing. When Harry got back from the kitchen, Louis reached out, grabbing him by the waist and yanking him down onto his sectional.

“Hazza, you are sitting with me and I will hear no objections!” Louis said sharply, holding onto Harry a little tighter just before letting him go.

“Well if you insist...” Harry smiled, sitting up next to him. Trying to ignore the flush on his cheeks and the butterflies going absolutely insane in the pit of his stomach. Liam and Zayn exchanged a glance and Niall was staring at Harry with an eyebrow quirked.

Harry lowered his gaze to his hands in his lap. It wasn’t that weird, was it? Louis was just being Louis, right? Liam had said he was a natural flirt. Harry wasn’t going to read too much into it. And he wished Niall wasn’t staring at him like that. Because really. It wasn’t a big deal. Not at all. Harry didn’t even have butterflies anymore. Nope. Not at all. No butterflies whatsoever.

He cast a shy gaze towards Louis’ who was scrolling through the digital downloads of all his movies. He didn’t know why he did it. Or why Louis happened to turn that exact moment and wink.

And, _Hazza!_

Nope, no butterflies here. None whatsoever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry encounters Louis' father for the first time. Louis' opens up to Harry about his childhood. Harry begins work on the article.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Abusive parents, talk of an abusive childhood.

They started with the first Saw movie. At Louis’ insistence, of course. Halfway through the movie, Louis started a popcorn fight with Niall which resulted in two big bowls of popcorn being dumped over and popcorn scattered all over the living room rug. And Harry couldn’t help but smile, because Louis and Niall were about on the same wave-length from a maturity standpoint. And they had both doubled over in laughter over the mess they’d created.

Harry didn’t know why, but it made him blossom with some sort of something at the thought of Louis and Niall getting along. Niall approves, Harry thought. And he wondered why that was so important to him in the first fucking place, but apparently it was and he’d just discovered that.

“You guys,” Liam rolled his eyes, “You’ve made a mess!”

“I’ll clean it up, _Lima!_ ” Louis scoffed indignantly as if Liam assuming otherwise was the greatest insult to him, “It’s my living room. I can do what I wish. And if I wish to say…” Louis reached for a bowl of sour gummy worms, “...toss sour gummy worms at you for the remainder of the movie, then so be it!” Louis punctuated this by doing just that. Harry laughed into his hand and Liam shot him a death-glare.

Louis kept it up though, tossing gummy worms while Liam batted them away and pretended to be angry. And then Louis turned to Harry. He tapped his lips with his index finger and Harry’s eyes widened at the touch.

“Open up, baby!” Louis grinned, feeding Harry one of the gummy worms.

Popcorn was everywhere. Gummy worms were everywhere. Lawrence was sawing his foot off on screen, right when the front door opened.

“What the hell is going on here?” A gruff voice demanded. And Louis instantly jumped up from the couch. He put the gummy worm bowl - now just sugar powder inside - on the coffee table and stood almost at attention. Harry glanced around the room. Liam and Zayn were sitting with their backs completely straight. Niall coughed once and moved to sit back on his sectional instead of on the floor. Harry peeled his eyes to the man in the doorway.

He was massive. Harry was quite tall, but this man...he seemed to be a giant. He had massive shoulders and looked as though he’d been a linebacker on a football team at some point in his life. He looked like Louis, only bigger. Tougher. His face lacked any of the softness that Louis’ had. And his eyes, while blue like Louis’ were completely icey. No warmth. No glistening. No teasing glimmer. Just hard. Stoic. Ice. Harry took a deep breath. He didn’t even have to be told.

This was Steve Tomlinson.

Louis’ father.

“What the hell is going on here?” He asked again, his voice harsh and seemed to echo throughout the home. And was that Harry’s imagination, or did the marble tile floor beneath his feet vibrate. His eyes cast over to Louis. He was still standing at attention, but had wavered under the booming voice of his father. And Harry felt sick. Standing at attention. Little soldier.

“We’re uh...having a movie day,” Louis explained, “Liam, Zayn, Harry, Niall, and me.”

“Hmm,” his father dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter and made his way into the living room. Louis’ neck pulsed as his father stood in the living room, kicking at a piece of popcorn, “And did a popcorn machine explode in here, Louis?”

“N-no, sir,” Louis’ eyes cast downward to the tile floor, “Just a little accident is all. I’ll clean it up after the movie.”

“Movie, right,” Steve cast a glance towards the television screen, “That disgusting display of absolute trash is not a movie, Louis. It’s _garbage_. And this place looks like garbage too. I had no idea your mother gave birth to a _pig_. Here I was thinking she’d given me a son. But looks like I was wrong.”

“We’ll help clean up, sir,” Liam offered.

“Yeah,” Zayn nodded enthusiastically, “We were just having fun is all.”

“Fun,” Steve scoffed, “Right. My company is crumbling down around me thanks to my son - I mean, my _pig_ \- and you all decide to have a little day of fun. Watch a few movies. Eat some junk food. Have a few laughs. Am I right?”

Harry felt the blood in his veins turn to soda. Louis was practically shaking. Harry wanted to say something - _anything_ \- but didn’t want to make the situation worse. He felt like he had no place to open his mouth anyway. He’d only just met Louis yesterday. He didn’t even know his father. But from the looks of things, he didn’t want to.

Steve was striking. Almost as striking as his son. Hard, tall, handsome. He could be a movie star, Harry thought. But any warmth Louis had, Steve had none. All he had was hardness in him and Harry hated him instantly.

Steve reached down and picked up a piece of popcorn. He threw it at Louis and it bounced off his chest, onto the floor once again. Louis winced slightly.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” He finally managed to ask. Harry could tell he was struggling to keep his voice as level as possible. Struggling to make it not shake or crack or break. Struggling to make himself not shake or crack or break.

“Thought I’d come by and check in on my son. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“No, sir,” Louis hissed, his jaw clenching tightly, “Not at all.”

“Very good then. Well, see to it that you boys get this mess cleaned up. Easy on the junk food, Louis. You don’t want to get your mother’s thighs. You already got her ass,” Louis winced again as Steve turned to go, “Tomorrow we have a board meeting. I expect you to be present. Have a nice day, boys.”

As soon as the door shut, Liam was up on his feet and at Louis’ side. He wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders and Harry noticed then just how hard Louis was shaking.

“I hate him,” Louis muttered through gritted teeth, “I _fucking_ hate him.”

“What do you say we put on a different movie, huh?” Zayn offered, “Something comedic, maybe? Been awhile since we’ve seen The Breakfast Club. We could watch that. You always love that movie.”

Harry felt utterly useless just sitting there. He thought about what Liam had said about being there for Louis. But with Liam at his side, Harry wondered what he could do to help. He hated feeling useless. He hated that he hadn’t jumped to his feet and screamed in Steve Tomlinson’s face. But what good would that have accomplished?

Niall shuffled over to sit next to Harry. “ _Jesus tap dancing Christ,_ ” he hissed into Harry’s ear.

Harry just nodded. Because really. What was there to say? Zayn reached for the remote and paused the movie.

“Put on Breakfast Club, Zaynie,” Louis smiled a sad, small smile, “I just need a minute. I’ll be right out. Set up the movie and I’ll be out in a second.”

Louis disappeared down the hall. Harry watched him go. He felt his heartstrings yank in Louis’ direction. He wanted desperately to go to him. But what if Louis just wanted to be alone? Harry had no idea what to do. His head spun. He wanted to run to Louis, hold him tightly in his arms, and never let him go. But Louis’ seemed to have made it clear - he would come back out when he was ready to be around them.

Harry shot a desperate gaze to Liam. Liam would tell him what to do. Liam always seemed to have the right answers.

“If you want to, go for it,” Liam said, as if having read Harry’s mind. He shrugged and sunk back down next to Zayn who wrapped him in a hug.

Harry nodded. He stood from the couch and slowly made his way to Louis’ bedroom. The door was shut partially. Harry raised his fist and rapped at the door with his knuckles. He waited for a response before going on in. His stomach twisted into a thousand knots. His head felt heavy and dizzy. A little voice behind the door said -

“Harry?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Harry made sure to keep his voice soft. Something about softness soothed Louis. And Harry had made a mental note of that last night. Softness and warmth. Those were the things Louis liked. Those were the things Louis needed.

“You can come in.”

Harry did so, shutting the door behind him. Louis was sitting on the edge of his bed. He’d just pulled his hands away from his face. He had been crying. Harry took a deep breath and instead of sitting next to him, knelt down to the floor in front of him. He gently brushed the fringe off Louis’ face.

“Hey you,” Harry whispered, “I was worried about you.”

A soft smile crossed Louis’ face, “I’m alright I guess. I should be used to it by now I supposed.”

“No one should be used to that, Louis,” Harry protested, “Ever.”

Louis just shrugged. Harry pushed himself upward and sat next to Louis on the mattress, “Do you want to talk about it? I can go if you’d like…”

“No, no. Stay,” Louis rested a hand on Harry’s knee, “Please. Stay.”

“Sure, Lou,” Harry nodded, “Not going anywhere.”

“Just please...when you write your article, don’t mention any of this. Don’t mention last night. Don’t mention my father and how he is. I don’t want...it can’t get out...please.”

“You don’t even have to say anything,” Harry gently smoothed down Louis’ hair in the back, “It’ll just be between us, okay? Hell, Lou. Even before I send it off to Syndrome, I’ll have you read over it to make sure you’re okay with what I say.”

“Thanks,” Louis smiled again, that soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes just yet. The smile faded quickly though as he said, “Harry...my father. He isn’t a good person. I need to tell you...I just...The reason...the reason I don’t let anyone touch my back...or see my back...is because up until I was old enough to ship off to boarding school...my father hated me. Hated having me around. Said I reminded him to much of my mother. I wasn’t an easy kid, Harry. I was always trouble. Finding trouble. Getting into trouble. _Making_ trouble. My father...the way he dealt with me was by beating me.”

Harry inhaled sharply but let Louis continue, “I’m not telling you this so you feel sorry for me, Harold,” Louis attempted to laugh, but it came out choked and pained, “I just think you should know. Liam knows. Zayn knows. Simon and Paul, they know. Everyone close to me knows. And I think you should know too. I want you to. So I’m telling you now. He used to beat me. And then when I turned twelve, I was old enough to ship off to school. Pretty much lived at Kingswright Academy after that. Met Liam while I was there. And he and I have been best friends since. He helped me through a lot of it. My dad...he never laid a hand on me again after that. Except occasionally. A back handed slap here or there for being mouthy. Suppose I probably deserved it sometimes.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry protested, “Please don’t say that.”

Louis shrugged, “It’s true though. I know I’m a pain in the ass sometimes. Arguementative. A brat. Usually he leaves me alone now. Not much he can do to me now. I’m an adult now. But _God_ , he _still_ has the power to make me practically piss myself when he’s around. I hate him, Harry. I don’t hate people. I hate the fact that I _do_ hate him. But I do.”

“When you were growing up...how did no one know? How did no one help you?”

Louis choked back a pained laugh, “What’d I tell you, Harold? My father donates money to the cops. He donates money to the schools. No one crosses him, or that money goes away. Everything in this fucking world is fueled by money. Money is power. My father is the most powerful man I know. He can end you. He can end you with one sentence if you cross him. He can make it so that you never have a job again if he sees fit. No one crosses him, Harold. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry, Lou. I am so, so sorry.” Harry had no idea what to say. His brain felt swimmy as he tried to process what Louis had just told him. As he tried to imagine Louis’ childhood. _Little soldier._

Louis raised a shoulder in a shrug, “It is what it is, right? Some people were meant to have happy childhoods, happy families. Others weren’t. I just wasn’t. My father is who he is. You can’t change him. No one can. I don’t even know why I told you all of this. I don’t talk about it ever to anyone really. But I just...I needed you to know, Harry. I _wanted_ you to know.”

Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair nervously. His stomach twisted into intricate, tight knots. He felt a heat rush over him and the blood in his veins was molten lead, heavy and hot.

“I’m glad you told me, Louis. Yesterday, I tried to tell myself you were just a job. But you aren’t. You’re so much more than that. I want us to be friends, Lou.”

“Well Christ, Harold I should hope so!” Louis scowled and Harry thought he’d misstepped. But then Louis’ face broke out into a grin - the kind that _did_ reach his eyes - and Harry couldn’t help but smile. And now Louis laughed. Not the loud boisterous laugh he usually did. But a quieter, softer sort of laugh. It reminded Harry of a soft rain.

“You’re my friend,” Louis said as though it’d been decided just like that, “Am I yours?”

“Of course you are,” Harry ran a hand through Louis’ hair. Louis preened under the soft and gentle touch of Harry’s hand.

“Good. Because otherwise this whole conversation would have been quite awkward, huh?” Louis smiled again, “We should go back out with the guys. Watch more movies. Eat more junk. Make even bigger a mess than before. Write FUCK STEVE TOMLINSON in chocolate sauce on the tile floor!” Louis was giggling now at the thought of it.

They stood from the bed and Louis paused in front of Harry for a moment. He held his arms out as if unsure of himself for a moment. But then opened his arms up wider, asking for a hug. Harry embraced him, holding Louis tightly against him. At first his hands wavered over Louis' back, unsure. But Louis held on tighter. Harry grasped him, his hands pressing against his back. And Louis didn’t shy away or jerk away from the touch. In fact, he relaxed under the weight of Harry’s hands on his back. Sighed and leaned into Harry harder. Needing to just be held, and Harry needing to just hold him.

They came back out to the living room, Louis clutching tightly onto Harry’s hand as if he needed him by his side. And Harry not wanting to be anywhere but. Liam started up Breakfast Club and Louis and Harry sat down on the sectional together. Louis tucked his legs up on the cushion next to him, and leaned his body against Harry. Harry lifted his arm and pulled Louis against him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and just holding him.

Throughout the movie, Harry would brush his fingers through Louis’ hair. If he’d stop, Louis would nudge his shoulder with his nose, pressing him to continue. And Harry would.

That night, Harry curled up in bed with his laptop resting on his knees as he began to type the first bit of his article:

_Louis Tomlinson is a little solider...._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry attends a board meeting. Steve has a request of Harry and Louis. Harry stands up to Steve. And Louis is an absolute flirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter than I'm used to because quite frankly, I started writing and just couldn't really stop! I hope you all don't mind!

“Okay, so board meeting,” Louis sighed, leaning back in the seat across from Harry. They were in the Lincoln town car. Dennis was driving them to Steve Tomlinsons’ office for the meeting. And Harry had been a wreck all morning. Louis had tried to be reassuring, but Harry could tell that Louis was a wreck too. “It’ll just be really dull. You can probably get away with just like sitting on your phone or something. I, on the other hand, have to at least pretend I’m paying attention.”

“I’ve never been to a board meeting before,” Harry winced.

“You’ll be fine. Like I said, you don’t have to do anything. And you look great by the way,” Louis beamed and Harry preened under the compliment. Louis had gone through his things that morning, helping him to pick out an outfit for the occasion. They’d settled on khaki pants and a blue button down. Harry insisted on his penny loafers, which had caused Louis to tease him incessantly.

“Thank you.”

“With an exception for those shoes. I’ll get you in Vans one day, darling,” Louis kicked Harry’s foot with his toe before clearing his throat and continuing, “Okay, so they’re all rich old men and all boring as hell. Just smile and shake hands if they ask you to. But regardless, they’ll love you. It’s me they hate.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though,” Louis laughed, “Can’t say I blame them. When I was seventeen, I showed up to some fundraiser swanky panky thing wearing a black t-shirt that said FUCK THIS in big white block letters. And it was beautiful!”

“Jesus Christ,” Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of it, “Wow. What happened?”

“My dad just _seethed_ anger but he couldn’t do jack shit about it because I kept close to Liam the whole night. And no way is Steve Tomlinson going to fuck up his kid with any witnesses around. So I got off scott-free. And it was epic and wonderful and so satisfying. But since then, I’m pretty sure the TomCorp board members hate my guts. Their loss though, right?”

“Right,” Harry nodded, wondering if Louis could hear the depth behind his response.

Louis just laughed and they continued the rest of the ride in silence. The Lincoln pulled up to one of the massive skyscrapers. Louis hopped out of the car and Harry followed him through the doors to the elevators. TomCorp was on the forty-second floor. Louis was bouncing on the balls of his feet as the elevator rode up. Harry’s ears popped it was so high.

Once at the office, Louis led Harry to the board room. They were early - at Louis’ insistence. Harry noted for someone who acted like he gave no shits, he really had made an effort to dress nicely and get there early. Gone were the black jeans or basketball shorts. Instead, he was wearing tight black dress pants and a black dress shirt. He even had on pointy black dress shoes. Not that Harry was really noticing, but yeah. He looked nice.

Louis slid into one of the plush leather chairs and motioned for Harry to sit next to him, “Maybe with you here, I won’t completely die of boredom,” he joked. Harry just smiled. A few moments passed and the doors opened. Steve walked in. He sat at the head of the massive oak table, nodding to Harry and Louis as he opened a leather folder with a legal pad inside.

“Nice to see you boys again,” he said and Harry balled his hands into fists under the table.

“Dad,” Louis just nodded.

“After this meeting, I need to speak to you Louis. And your new little shadow as well I suppose.”

Louis didn’t reply. He just clenched his hands under the table as well. Harry reached out and gently squeezed Louis’ hand in his own. They held hands under the table throughout the entire board meeting. The board members discussed the budgets and the stocks. They’d done better this week than the last. And Steve made a jab about that being because Louis’ hadn’t started any bar fights yet this week. And Louis just smiled a tight smile. Playing it off as casual father/son banter.

“The numbers have improved slightly, yes,” A man named Ronald cleared his throat, “But it’s still not good. Steve, forgive me, but you want to leave the company to your son? He’ll drive it to the ground. People are scared left and right of him.”

“Louis is a capable young man,” Simon spoke up and Louis preened slightly under the compliment.

“Who needs discipline,” Steve raised his voice over Simon’s and Louis sunk a little lower into his chair.

“Because that worked so well when raising him, right?” Simon raised a brow and Harry felt the tension get a thousand times heavier. He felt as though he were trying to breathe in a sauna.

“Do not...talk about...how I raised...my son,” Steve countered.

“Fine,” Simon held up a hand, “How about I take Louis under my wing. Teach him the ends and outs of the company. He was top of his business classes in college. He graduated with top honors, Steve. But all that doesn’t mean shit unless someone takes the time to teach him one on one how TomCorp works. And I don’t see you doing that for him.”

Louis had graduated? From college? With top honors? Harry felt guilty that he was actually surprised by that. He mentally kicked himself for it. Louis was smart. He knew that. But smart enough to graduate top of his class? Harry felt himself swell with pride he had no right to feel.

“He still needs to improve his image,” Steve insisted, “The wild nights of partying...I mean. I get that. I do. I was in my twenties once too. But I also knew my father had certain expectations of me. I settled down. I got married.”

“Yeah, she left him three years later,” Louis scoffed into Harry’s ear, “And me.”

“The point _is_ , he needs to make an effort. And I haven’t seen that effort. Louis,” Steve addressed him, “You’re my son. We’re all the family we’ve got. You are the one to take over TomCorp. And you will get yourself in gear to do so. You’re almost twenty-five, not twenty-one. You’re an adult now. Soon you’ll be getting married and…”

“Jesus, Dad,” Louis winced, “I get it, okay. There’s a ticking clock. I get that.”

The meeting continued along tension-filled and awkward. Harry wanted to melt into the leather chair and disappear into a puddle on the floor. But he was certain that Louis as feeling even worse. The meeting wrapped up and Louis and Harry stood from their seats.

“You two, sit,” Steve grinned. Harry felt the air rush out of his lungs. Louis sighed and rolled his eyes.

“What now, Dad?”

“I just want to have a little chat. Just us, okay?” The board members had all cleared out. They were alone. Steve moved down to sit on the other side of Louis, who bristled when his father walked past. Harry squeezed Louis’ knee, trying to be encouraging as possible.

“Louis, you know my birthday is coming up next week, right? The huge party you were invited to but never RSVP’d because well, I _know_ you’ll be there. And you’ll look sharp as a tack. And you’ll be polite but rigid and you will convince these board members that you are a good choice to run TomCorp. See it as your coming out party. Your debutant ball!”

“Jesus Christ, Dad,” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I want you there. And I want you _presentable_ , Louis. No stunts. And I need you to bring a date. You need to present yourself as a mature young man. All these hookups and one night stands are damaging for your - _our_ \- image. So you will bring a date. Guy or girl I don’t give a fuck. Bring Harry here if you want!”

At the sound of his name, Harry glanced up from where he was picking at a hangnail.

“Dad,” Louis winced, “Please.”

“What?” Steve scoffed, “Harry, you like in the ass, right?”

“ _Jesus fucking Christ!_ ” Louis jumped back from his chair, almost knocking it over, “You can’t just...Dad!”

Harry wanted to melt. Steve smiled a slick smile and said, “I don’t judge, Louis. You know that. You can screw whomever, however you’d like. But the board members and stockholders need to see commitment from you. And a steady relationship would show that.”

“So you want me to go to this birthday party as Louis’ date?” Harry asked slowly, speaking up for the first time. It seemed to impress Steve though. His face softened slightly and he tilted his head to look Harry in the eye.

“If you’d do that for my son, I’d appreciate that.”

“God, Dad!” Louis was pissed, Harry could practically feel it next to him - the heat swelling up inside Louis, “You have always tried to control every aspect of my life and now this! When will it be enough!”

“Louis,” Steve’s voice was level but his hands were clenched, “Forgive me for making a suggestion. I just _assumed_ you’d rather it be Harry here, than me hire some blonde beard as a stand-in. Which you know well enough I can and _will_ do. I just assumed you’d prefer it to be Harry. And as always, Ziam and Lain are invited as well. See it as some sort of faggy double date thing.”

“Unacceptable word choice,” Louis frowned, “And it’s _Liam_ and _Zayn_.”

“My apologies,” Steve held up his hands in surrender, “Make your choice, Louis. Harry or a beard. And at the party, I want you to really lap it up and lay it on thick. I want you to two - either Harry or the girl - to act absolutely head over heels for each other. Make the public think you’re committed. One night, Lou. Give me one fucking night here.”

Louis bit his bottom lip, frowning as he paced along the wall of the board room. Harry nibbled on his hangnail and tried not to appear as awkward as he currently felt.

“Harry,” Louis finally said, “What do you think?” He had stopped pacing now. Instead, he was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He’d nodded once at Harry when he’d addressed him.

Harry took a sharp breath, “Well. If I do this, we could at least have some fun. It’d be miserable for you if you were there with some girl you didn’t even know, right? And Zayn and Liam will be there. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun,” Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Fun,” Steve nodded, “Free booze that costs more than most New York City monthly rents. Delicious food catered by the highest and most renowned chefs in the world, Louis. I know you hate these schmutzy events. I get it. I do. They can be dull for a young man. _At least_ make it more enjoyable for yourself. And while you’re at it, do me this one small favor.”

“I feel like I am making a deal with the devil,” Louis frowned towards Steve, “Harry, if you want to do this, then I’ll say yes. But do not feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do. He doesn’t control you. You make the ultimate decision here.”

Harry took a deep breath. Pretending to be Louis’ boyfriend for pretty much the social event of the year? Would it really be the worst thing in the world? At it would get Steve off Louis’ ass about things. So that was a massive plus too.

“I’ll do it,” Harry jutted his chin out, “I’ll go as Louis’ date. But _you_ ,” he pointed at Steve, “are going to stay away from us the entire night. Me, Louis, Zayn, and Liam. Louis will smile and tell you happy birthday. You will thank him. Maybe shake hands. Just for the press, right? But then you are to go and mingle with your friends - if you have friends - and leave us be for the rest of the night. You are not to talk to Louis or look at Louis again for that whole night. Is that understood?”

Louis’ jaw was on the floor. And Steve wet his lips, blinking twice as though he was buying time before speaking again, choosing his words carefully, “That can be arranged. Thank you, Harry,” Steve pushed back from the table and headed out to the hall, “See you then, gentlemen.”

Louis collapsed in the chair next to Harry, “Christ, Haz! No one’s ever spoken to him like that except maybe Simon! I can’t believe you just did that! He could destroy you for this, you know that, right? Make it hell for you here in New York. Why...why did you do that?”

Harry squeezed Louis’ knee, “I can’t do much, but I can give you that one night of him leaving you alone. If I can do that for you, then...well, good. You have to go to that event. You might as well be able to enjoy it with the three of us than having to deal with him.”

“I can’t believe you,” Louis shook his head, a huge grin broke out on his face, “He just folded. Just like that! You’re...you’re amazing!”

“I’ve been told that once or twice,” Harry smirked playfully.

“Idiot,” Louis shoved his shoulder playfully, the grin still on his face - eyes sparkling wildly.

\--

That night, Louis was getting ready to go out to the clubs again. Harry knew he needed to stay in and work on his article more. Marsha had texted him twice about it that afternoon. So he’d declined Louis’ offer of going out with him, Zayn, and Liam. Louis had pouted, but didn’t press the issue much further than that.

Harry watched him head out the front door in his black jeans and army jacket with the popped collar. And he looked so good. So freaking good. And Harry thought that maybe staying home had been a mistake. Maybe he should have gone out with Louis. It’d have been fun. But no, he needed to get his focus back on track. He was there to a job, a job he’d been neglecting. Marsha had asked him to send her an outline of some bullet points he’d come up with so far. And that’s just what he’d have to do - no going out to the clubs for him.

Harry was sitting on the sectional with his laptop propped up on his knees as he began to type out a list of things about Louis Tomlinson.

_Louis Tomlinson is a little solider._

_Louis Tomlinson is kind._

_Louis Tomlinson is funny._

_Louis Tomlinson is passionate._

_Louis Tomlinson is electric._

_Louis Tomlinson will not rest until everyone is happy and having a good time._

_Louis Tomlinson cares deeply and loves tremendously._

_Louis Tomlinson is smart and brilliant and intelligent._

_Louis Tomlinson graduated with honors._

_Louis Tomlinson is cunning._

_Louis Tomlinson can be a little shit._

_Louis Tomlinson…_

God. Harry felt like some love-sick teenager writing in the margins of his notebook. He opened up a new, blank document and decided to type out something a bit more professional - less schoolboy crush. He needed to impress Syndrome. He needed this job. Now that he’d had a taste of it, just dangling in front of him, he wanted it more badly than he’d ever thought possible.

_Louis Tomlinson is a little solider. That is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Louis Tomlinson. A little solider. A little lion. He’s fierce. He is electric and passionate. He is cunning and brilliant. He’s also extremely funny and will not rest until everyone around him is happy and having a good time. He goes out of his way to do things for others - to bring a smile to their faces. He is kind and passionate. He is a force of electricity. You can’t help but be mesmerised by this person that he is. And if there’s one thing that I think the world needs to know about Louis Tomlinson, it’s that he’s stronger than most people realize._

_He’s been through so much. And he has never let it falter him. It’s only made him stronger, kinder, and more passionate. Do not underestimate Louis Tomlinson. He is a force to be reckoned with. Just stand back and watch him. He has the world in his hands. And for him, the sky's the limit. Anyone who doubts his capabilities is ignorant or perhaps jealous. Because Louis Tomlinson is a good person - a great person. He’s wise and intelligent and kind. And he’s going to be a good leader for TomCorp. If you doubt him, just sit back and watch. He’ll prove you wrong._

Harry smiled at the first little bits he’d typed up. He copied and pasted them into an email that he sent off to Marsha. Well, that had taken less time than he’d anticipated. Maybe he should have agreed to go out with Louis after all. That look on Lou’s face when Harry’d said he needed to stay in work...that had been disappointment right? Harry hadn’t just been imagining things, had he? Harry set the laptop on the coffee table and leaned his head back against the cushion of the sectional.

It’d just been two days. Two days and already he was falling fast and hard for this boy. Harry had never been one for schoolboy crushes. He’d liked guys, sure. And he’d dated in the past. But he’d never felt like this about a guy - all giddiness and butterflies and nerves. And it scared him. Louis Tomlinson was just supposed to be a job. He was being paid to write an article, not fall in love.

Love?

Harry hopped up from the couch. He needed a distraction. He couldn’t just be sitting there on the couch thinking about Louis Tomlinson. Thoughts like that took him down paths he didn’t want to venture - paths like “love.” Harry sighed and paced around the living room for a bit. He stood by the massive windows, looking out at the skyline of the city. The night sky was deep blue and the bright yellow lights of the buildings looked like stars. Harry wondered if he could see where Louis might be - the lights of some club or bar. Was he dancing? Drinking? Were there more pretty blonde boys to flirt with?

The thought made Harry’s stomach churn. Again, he told himself he had no right to feel any jealous emotions. Louis wasn’t his. And Harry wasn’t Louis’. Louis had every right to go out and flirt and be with whomever he wanted. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to say it, but the penthouse was incredibly quiet and lonely without Louis’ presence booming from every room.

His cellphone pinged in the pocket of his sweatpants. Harry dug it out and saw a text from Louis. He raised a brow before opening the unread message -

**Bored as hell without you here, Haz. You know, all work and no play makes Harold a very dull boy ;)**

Harry bit his bottom lip as he typed back his reply - _I went out with you last night. I am taking one night to work on my article. You know. The article. The reason I’m staying at your place and shadowing you for the next three weeks. That article._

**Article shmarticle. I’m bored and you’re home and I’m here and that’s not acceptable, Harold.**

Harry really tried not to focus on the word “home.” As if it were a home he and Louis’ shared. God, he really did have it bad, didn’t he? It was only the second day. How the hell was he going to survive the next three weeks? Harry felt slightly dizzy.

_I’m very busy, Louis. You’re interrupting. Lots of working going on here, you know._

**Sure, sure. You’re probably bored as fuck too. Don’t even try to lie to me, Harold.**

_I am not. I am very hard at work over here, Louis. You know, lots of writing to do._

**I’ll bet you twenty bucks that you finished what you had to work on in the first ten minutes of me being gone and now you’re bored as fuck and wandering around the penthouse wondering why you didn’t just come out with me. Am I right?**

_No._

**Harold!**

_Okay. So maybe you aren’t exactly too far off in that assumption…_

**HA! I knew it! You can’t lie to me, Harold. I know you.**

_We’ve only known each other for pretty much two days now, Louis._

**So? I know you and you know me. Don’t know why, but we just do. We get each other, Hazza. And you know it. We just click. Regular ol’ soulmates, we are!**

Jesus Christ. Harry threw his head back and had to bite his lip hard at that. This was just Louis being Louis, Harry tried to tell himself. He’s just being a flirt. That’s who he is. He loves to flirt, get a rise from people. He’s probably flirting with several guys at the bar at this very moment. Harry typed back -

_Our romance will be one for the history books, huh lol_

**Why of course, Harold!**

_You’re a menace._

**But you love me.**

_Are you always this much of a pain?_

**:)**

Harry sighed, putting his phone down on the cushion of one of the sectionals. He wasn’t going to text back. He just wasn’t. He wasn’t going to encourage him. Instead, Harry made himself a mug of cocoa in the kitchen, and he most certainly was no thinking about what all Louis had texted him. Talk of soul mates and love and whatnot. Nope. Those thoughts were the furthest things from Harry’s mind.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has stood up against Steve Tomlinson, requesting he stay away from Louis. Louis' warned him that Steve could destroy him. And now Harry is experiencing the wrath of Steve Tomlinson first hand. Everyone in Louis' life - except Liam and Zayn - are on Steve's payroll. Including Marsha and Simon. Which Louis and Harry both realize. Marsha calls Harry with an ultimatum from Steve - write the article and then never speak to Louis again, and he'll get the job at Syndrome plus a hefty bonus. Or kiss the job at Syndrome and the money goodbye. A conversation which Louis happens to overhear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for all your wonderful feedback! It really means a lot to me. You guys are all so wonderful and it makes me so happy to hear that my story makes you happy! 
> 
> This is a work of fiction. This is totally and completely of my imagination. Please do not take any of this to heart as far as the names of the people involved or the corruption mentioned in this chapter. It's just fiction.
> 
> Thank you <3

“I have something to show you,” Louis announced. It’d been three days since Harry’d first moved in. And things had only gotten more intense. Louis was constantly flirting and making Harry blush. It seemed as though he lived for those moments in which Harry would duck his head, blush staining at his cheeks, and say, “Lou…”

It was evening now, the sky darkening just out the expansive windows. They’d been curled up on the sectionals watching Chopped on the Food Network when Louis had slapped Harry’s thigh and said that.

“What?” Harry asked, brows knitted together.

“Just c’mon, please Hazza,” Louis was standing now and he grabbed onto Harry’s wrist and yanked. Harry sighed, pretending it was more trouble than it was to uncurl himself from the couch and stand. Louis, still holding onto Harry’s wrist, pulled him towards the hallway. There was one door that Harry hadn’t seen inside of just yet. It was small, and he’d just assumed it was a linen closet. But Louis opened the door, revealing a flight of stairs.

“What is this?” Harry asked.

“This is my access to the roof. My penthouse is the only one with access to the roof. And I want to show you the view. So up you go,” he gave Harry a slight shove and Harry started climbing up the cement steps.

“This isn’t where you kill me is it? The random ass stairwell in your apartment?” Harry looked back at Louis, who just rolled his eyes.

“Get your tiny ass up those stairs Harold or so help me…”

“Alright, alright. I’m going,” Harry laughed. At the top of the stairs, there was another door. Harry grasped the handle and pushed it open. What he saw literally took the breath from his lungs.

The rooftop was expansive. Terracotta flower beds lined the walls along the roof’s ledge. Harry stood there for a moment, trying to take in everything. Oh and the views! Harry swore he could see all of New York City! The sky was just black-blue enough and the bright lights of the buzzing city looked like stars - constellations even!

“Wow,” was all Harry could muster.

“You like?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course, Lou. This is...amazing. Why didn’t you show me this before?”

“Don’t come up here too often,” Louis shrugged, “Except to sometimes water the plants. Louis Tomlinson, Party Boy Extraordinaire has flower beds. Not exactly what you pictured when you first me me, huh?”

“Not exactly,” Harry leaned over the ledge, resting his arms on the concrete wall, “This is something else, Lou. Thank you.”

“Just thought you should have a proper view of the city is all,” Louis tried to brush off Harry’s excitement, but he was beaming in spite of himself. He came over and stood next to Harry, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“The city? Yeah. I am so glad I’m here. I still can’t believe it.  Ever since I was like, eleven, I wanted to move to New York. This is like...like a dream come true. I am actually living in a penthouse for a few weeks, and I am currently standing on the roof of said penthouse overlooking the nighttime skyline. This is...this is perfection, Louis.”

Louis beamed again, patted Harry shoulder, and then hugged himself with his arms, “I used to come up here a lot to just clear my head. The city is always buzzing with sounds, but up here...you can just separate yourself from all of it. Up here I don’t have to be Louis Tomlinson, Steve Tomlinson’s heir. Up here, I can be whoever I want.”

Harry just nodded, letting Louis continue, “It’s peaceful like that. Away from everything and everyone else. I don’t even let Zayn and Liam up here much. It’s like a little sanctuary. Just to myself. 

“But you let me come up here,” Harry’s brow furrowed. What did that even mean - that Harry had been allowed into a part of Louis’ life in which Liam and Zayn weren’t even allowed to venture?

Louis just shrugged again, staring out at the view in front of him. Harry’s head was spinning. What did this mean? What did any of this mean? Just then, his phone buzzed inside the pocket of his jeans. Harry pulled it out and saw the contact info. Marsha. Harry took a deep breath, not wanting this moment to end, but not wanting to put his potential future job on the line.

“I uh...I should take this,” Harry pointed to the phone.

Louis frowned but nodded. Harry ducked back to the door and hurried down the stairs as the phone continued to buzz. Once back inside the apartment, Harry ducked into his bedroom, answering the call.

“Marsha!” He said, kicking the door partially shut behind him, “Hi!”

“Hello, Harry.”

“I thought my first draft wasn’t due until next week?” He was fishing. It was strange of her to call him. Especially at this hour.

“Right. Well I am just calling because...well...we’re concerned.”

“Who is _we?_ ” Harry’s brow furrowed as he began to walk around the bedroom - never one to sit still while on the phone.

Marsha’s voice lowered slightly, “Harry, there’s been some articles rotating these past few days. Some paps caught you and Louis out grabbing coffee yesterday. You left the coffee shop and his hand is on your lower back.”

“Well that’s just Louis,” Harry explained, “He’s like that with everyone.”

“Harry,” Marsha kept her voice level, “I’ve known Louis and his family for years. I know Louis quite well. He is a flirt. But with you...it’s different. In images of him normally you can just tell that he’s flirting and being flamboyant. With you, you could be mistaken for his boyfriend. Is there something going on between you two, Harry?”

“Excuse me?” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“I have to ask these questions, Harry. We hired you to do a job. That job was to write an article on Louis. Paint him in a good light so that TomCorp doesn’t lose more money because of him.”

“I thought you were on his side,” Harry frowned, something seemed off, “You’re making it sound like TomCorp’s losses are his fault.”

“Well in a way…” Marsha sighed, “...they are. Your job is to write the article. Show the world - the _investors_ \- that Louis isn’t just some party boy living up his youth but actually a serious and committed man. Now I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but if there’s anything inappropriate, it needs to stop right now.”

Harry fumed. Because well...what the fuck did it matter if there was something going on or not? Marsha had told him she loved Louis and wanted Harry to sort of be a good influence over him. Hadn’t she been the one to talk of befriending him and supporting him? Harry felt the room shrink in around him. Something was off. Very off.

“Marsha, you told me that you wanted me to guide him and support him as well as write my article.”

“Yes, well. Circumstances change.”

“Steve Tomlinson asked me to accompany Louis as his date to his birthday banquet thing next week. If you’re upset about me grabbing coffee with Louis, how would you feel about that?”

Marsha sighed again, “Harry. _Circumstances change._ Look, you have one job to do so do it.”

“I am a little confused as to what this _one_ job is,” Harry ran a hand through his hair, feeling his lungs constrict slightly, “Befriend him and support him, or just write my article and dump him to the curb?”

“Mr. Styles,” and okay, wow. That was not expected. “Steve Tomlinson has informed me that he is concerned about your relationship to his son.”

“He told me to be his date to the banquet next week,” Harry was completely confused now, “How did he just...did he just take that back?”

“Mr. Tomlinson just feels that…”

“I thought _Simon_ was the one that asked Syndrome to write this article. Can you please tell me right this moment who it is you report back to? Whose payroll are you on?”

“What an inappropriate question!”

“I don’t think so,” Harry was fuming now, “If I am to work at Syndrome I’d like to know who it is I am working for.”

“Fine then,” Marsha cleared her throat, and her voice when she spoke again was clipped, “Who owns this city, Mr. Styles? Tell me.”

Harry’s throat went dry, “Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Exactly. I work for him. With the amount of money in invests into things, most people in this city do in fact work for him. And if you’re smart, you’ll learn that and accept that. Syndrome is funded mostly through money he has put into this company. He calls the shots because of that. He was the one that wants this article written about his son. And you’re the one that’s going to write it. Write the article, and you get to be a part of Syndrome - the highest grossing online urban newspaper in the media at the moment. But Mr. Tomlinson has decided that he is concerned with your relationship to Louis…”

“I don’t think that’s any of…”

“It _is_ my business because it’s _his_ business,” Marsha was quick to reply, “Mr. Styles, Steve has informed me that you made a certain agreement the other day. You requested that he stay away from Louis at the banquet? Mr. Tomlinson thinks that that was quite bold…”

“Please stop,” Harry held up a hand to no one in particular, “You sound like a robot repeating everything Steve says. Just stop!”

“Mr. Styles, since that little display in the board room, Mr. Tomlinson feels that you need to learn who really pulls the strings around here. And he thinks your boldness is a detriment to his son. You are to write your article. And then after you’ve finished that, you will come work for us. You will earn a commission for this article. Once your assignment is complete, you will be given a check for fifteen thousand. And then you will come work here. And you will have no contact again with Louis Tomlinson.”

“Are you seriously trying to _bribe_ me right now? So what...Steve doesn’t want me around his son once the article is written because...why? I stood up to him? Told him to back off from Louis for once in his life? You told me you cared about Louis. You said you and Simon…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Marsha inhaled sharply and Harry wanted to fucking throw something, “What matters now is that things change in this city and if you want to live here, you’d better learn to adapt.”

“I didn’t know that you did Steve’s bidding for him, Marsha. But after tonight, I don’t think I want any part of…”

“ _Fifteen thousand,_ Mr. Styles. And that’s just for one article. This one article.”

“No,” Harry laughed dryly, “No, it’s not. It’s to pay me off.”

“See it as you wish. Do your job, Harry. And that fifteen thousand is yours. The position here is yours. I know it could help out your family back home in Cheshire, right. Your father was just laid off from his job, correct?”

“How did you…”

“Tell me again, Mr. Styles. Is there something going on between you and Louis?”

Harry took a sharp breath. His hand was clenched into a fist at his side as he said, “No...no. Louis is just an assignment. That...that is all.”

“Very good, Harry! I look forward to your first draft. Have a wonderful evening.”

Harry ended the call and threw the phone onto the bed with all the force he could muster because fuck Syndrome and fuck Marsha Landers and fuck Steve Tomlinson and just fuck!

He heard a slight cough coming from the doorway and whipped his head around to see Louis leaning against the doorframe. The look on his face was stricken. And Harry knew then that Louis had heard at least part of the conversation. Shit.

“Louis…” Harry hurried over to the doorway, “...how long were you…”

“Just a job, huh?” Louis scoffed, his voice bitter and gravelly, “Just an _assignment_ and nothing more, right Harry?”

“Louis...you don’t...you didn’t…” Harry wanted to desperately to tell Louis the whole conversation - that Marsha and maybe even Simon weren’t really in his corner, that all they cared about was obeying Steve and collecting their checks. That Steve was retaliating against Harry for standing up to him in the boardroom the other day. That Harry himself had no idea what he was going to do. But words just couldn’t come - they _wouldn’t_ come. He found his mind spinning out of control with things to say, but no words came out.

“I heard enough, Harry. You know...I am not a stupid person. I’m _really_ not. I am quite smart, which everyone seems to underestimate. I know who runs this city. I know how my father does things here. I know who works for him and whose checks he signs. I know that when it comes down to it, money will always prevail. I know that the cops who showed up on our doorstep when I was nine years old with fucking lash marks across my back and a belt still in my father’s hand only cared about their money. My father told them to keep their mouths shut and it’d be all worth their while. They did. And that year he donated 50K to the police force. I know that my teachers at Kingswright were told to turn a blind eye to things I did, scared of being sacked. Scared of my father’s donations going away. I know that Marsha Landers works for my father. I know Simon does too. And I guess in the back of my mind, I suppose I knew you did as well.”

“Louis…”

“I just thought you were better than them,” Louis let out a dry laugh, “Figured you were _a lot_ better, actually. I fucking _trusted_ you. And I opened up to you. My mistake though, I guess.”

“Lou…”

“You don’t _get_ to speak to me right now,” Louis voice was like glass slicing at Harry and completely unraveling him, “Simon and Marsha always told me they would look out for me. After a number of years I believed them…”

“Marsha…”

“I said _shut the fuck up, Harry!_ ” Louis completely lost it and Harry felt his stomach dip, “I heard you say enough already tonight. You told her I was just an assignment. I know what she’s after. My father wants this article. And if she gets someone to write it, he pays her and she pays you. It’s a feeding chain, Harry. A fucked up, messed up chain and _you_ just became a part of it.”

Harry felt the room spin around him. He desperately wanted to say something - to tell Louis that he was wrong. That maybe Harry wasn’t going to accept their offer to be a part of their fucked up, messed up chain. But Louis wasn’t letting him speak. All Harry could do was stand there and watch as the boy he’d found himself falling for began to unravel right in front of him.

“I want you to call yourself a cab. I want you and your things out of my home. And I don’t want to see you until next Friday night at my father’s birthday banquet since apparently you’re my date. We’ll be the best of mates that night. Play their little games. And then at the end of the night, you’re to leave and never see me again. And you’ll write your little article. Do your job. Stand up straight. Be a good little soldier for them, right? March in line. Don't complain. And join your place in their chain.”

“Louis…”

“Pack your things. Get out of my home. I will see you on Friday, Mr. Styles. And then never again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So to conclude (just to make sure we're all on the same page because I know sometimes when I write something makes sense to me but not to others), Marsha and Simon work for Steve. Marsha does not care for Louis' interest at all. We still are unsure about Simon. 
> 
> Steve is angry at Harry for standing up against him after the board meeting and trying to tell him what to do.
> 
> To punish Harry for that, Steve wants Harry to stay as far away from Louis as possible and just focus on getting the article written to improve Louis' image so his company doesn't lose any more money.
> 
> Marsha offered Harry a pretty large bribe to do as Steve asks.
> 
> Harry has not accepted it yet, but is considering it.
> 
> Louis has only heard the ending of the phone call between Marsha and Harry.
> 
> Things to look forward to in the next chapters though:  
> \- Harry making his decision  
> \- A show-down between Harry and Steve  
> \- And lots of Larry cuteness! So hang in there, lovebugs! <3


	8. Chapter 8

“Do you want to talk about it?” Niall asked, leaning against Harry’s bedroom door frame as Harry angrily unpacked his duffle. He tossed clothes onto his bed and laughed when he came across the bottle of lube Niall had snuck into his bag. Harry snatched it up and threw it hard against the opposite wall. Niall jumped at the impact.

“What do you think?” Harry asked, his voice sharp and bitter. Of course he didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to forget it. Wanted to forget Syndrome and to forget Louis Tomlinson. But that was impossible. Harry knew that. What’d taken place in the past three days, there was no forgetting - no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Sorry,” Niall winced, “At least let me uh...help you with that?” He plucked up a t-shirt Harry had thrown that’d landed by his feet.

“I hate this. I fucking _hate_ this,” Harry collapsed onto the edge of the bed. He put his face in his hands, not wanting to look at anyone - even Niall. “Syndrome is a fucking joke, Niall. Louis’ father runs everything. There’s no escape from him. Especially if I work for Sydrome. I don’t know what to do.”

“Hold up. Pause. Rewind,” Niall sat down next to Harry, gently placing a hand on his back, “Play.”

“Okay,” Harry sighed, taking a deep breath, “I got a call from Marsha at Syndrome last night. Apparently Steve Tomlinson didn’t like me standing up against him the other day. And to get back at me for it, he wants me to write my article and never speak to Louis again. And apparently he and his money control so much of this city. They offered me a sort of bribe to never have any contact with Louis again. That’s what he does. He gets back at people and uses them to hurt his son. He’s doing this to punish me and also to hurt Louis. He takes everyone who’s ever cared for him or loved him away from him. Except Zayn and Liam. They’re stronger than me I guess. I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t fucking do it, then. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is my dad lost his job a while back. If I work for Syndrome, write their little article, and move on from Louis, then it’d really, really help my family. It’s not all black and white, Niall. I wish it was.”

“You said...love.”

“Yes. Love. I don’t know what any of it means, Niall. But I do know that these past few days have been electrifying. I can’t even imagine my life without Louis in it. And now...well, that’s my reality. I’m supposed to still be his date to the banquet on Friday. And then I am supposed to finish up my article and then leave his life for good. I don’t know if I can do that, Niall. I already miss him and it’s only been like, an hour.”

Niall let out a breath, “So what exactly happened between you two tonight?”

“Marsha sort of backed me into a corner to say that Louis was just an assignment and nothing more to me. And Louis may have overheard me say that. And then he accused me of being like everyone else and being brainwashed by Steve Tomlinson but I’m not. I don’t want to go along with any of this. But I also know that money could really help my family. And I’m scared of what Steve might do if I don’t go along with him. He’s even got the cops wrapped around his finger.”

“Want to go T.P his mansion?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile, “Thanks, Niall. But I’m pretty sure he’s got, like, armed security on his property.”

“Why didn’t you just explain to Louis what’s going on here?”

“He didn’t even let me speak. Told me I had no right to speak to him. Said I’d said way too much already,” Harry winced reliving the words Louis had said, “He doesn’t want anything to do with me, Niall. And I can’t really blame him. His whole life he’s known pain. Everyone in his life has been doing his father’s bidding out of fear of the man. And Louis...Louis’ been just a pawn to Steve. He’s alone. He’s got Liam and Zayn but...he let me into parts of his life he didn’t even let them into. We had something, Niall. We did. There was just this...spark. It was like with him, things just made sense. And I felt like I’d just met my other half. I know that’s sappy…”

“Dude, if that’s how you feel then it’s not sappy. You’re allowed to feel what you feel, mate. Tell me. If you could anything right now, what would you do?”

“Easy,” Harry snorted, “I’d tell Steve Tomlinson to suck it. And I’d take Louis and he and I would get away from him for good. But...there’s no way we can do that. It’s not possible. Steve Tomlinson is everywhere.”

Niall pulled Harry into a hug and Harry felt the tears swell in his eyes, “Things will work out, H. Maybe not today. Maybe not to tomorrow. But they will. If you and Louis really do have something so special - which I think you do - it’ll work out. The universe will see to that.”

“You think?”

“Mmhmm,” Niall nodded, flattening Harry’s curls gently with his hand, “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay? For either of you. I like the lad. And I love you. I just want to help if I can.”

“I know, thanks Nialler.”

Niall gave Harry one more squeeze before heading towards the kitchen to order some delivery. Harry slowly picked up the clothes he’d thrown all over the place and began to fold them neatly. If there was one thing that was always able to calm him, it was tidying up. Whenever he’d have a fit as an angsty teenager, his mother would send him to his room and tell him, “Don’t come out until you’ve tidied up.” And Harry would organize and tidy and dust and somehow it’d always calm him down. That’s what he needed to do now. Just focus on cleaning, he told himself as he began to reorganize the knick knacks on his dresser.

After his dresser was all reorganized, his clothes all folded and put away or hung neatly in the closet, Harry sunk back down on his bed. He felt weird not talking to Louis. All he wanted to do was send Louis a text. Actually, he wanted to show up at the penthouse with a dozen roses and a huge apology. But he was sure Louis had told security to keep him away. So a text would be all he could do. And he even held his phone in his hands, thinking over the words a hundred times.

All the words though didn’t matter. And instead, all Harry could muster to type was - _I’m sorry._

Niall knocked on the door, announcing the Chinese had been delivered. Harry took one last glance at his phone before leaving it on the bed to join Niall. They watched Netflix, munched on their midnight dinners, and Harry had almost forgotten about having texted Louis. Until after he’d gotten his shower and crawled into bed. He picked the cell phone up off the duvet cover and checked casually for any messages. There was one from Louis. All it said was - _Who is this?_

\--

The week slunk by slower than anything. Harry continued to work on his article, which was only more difficult now that he and Louis were not on speaking terms. Everything was more difficult now that he and Louis were not on speaking terms. He sort of shuffled about his business, just taking things day by day. Niall was being extra sweet though. And Harry was grateful to have him as a friend.

When Friday approached, Harry got dressed in the nicest outfit he had - a black dress shirt, tight black pants, his black boots. He tied a black scarf around his neck because at one time, Louis had told him he liked him in scarves. So Harry tied it and stared at his reflection, trying to muster up the courage to go over to Louis’. He’d been sent an email from Marsha instructing him to be at Louis’ penthouse at 4pm. It was now 3:20 and Harry felt nauseous.

Niall watched as Harry fretted around the living room before finally grabbing his hand and dragging him into the bathroom. Niall flung open one of the drawers and shuffled through the items. He pulled out two things - a tube of Harry’s YSL mascara and a tube of berry tinted lipstick.

“You always look fantastic when you go all out,” Niall explained, undoing the cap to the mascara, “Look up, yeah just like that. You’re gonna knock him dead, babe. I swear you will. Just try not to stress.”

“I’m beyond stressed,” Harry sighed as Niall applied the mascara, “Thank you for this though.”

“Of course. Open your mouth a little,” Niall applied one coat of the lipstick. It was enough that Harry looked composed, but not too much that it looked like he was wearing makeup. He wasn’t one to wear much, but he did like to doll up just a tad. And for whatever reason, Niall enjoyed helping him do so. He’d even been the one to purchase the berry lipstick having seen it in a window and thought it’d look pretty on Harry.

“What’s beyond stressed?” Harry fretted with the hem of his shirt.

“No idea.”

“That’s what I feel though. I feel like a statue that is going to crack at any given moment if someone even so much as breathes on me. Is this what Jericho felt like before crumbling to the ground? What am I going to do, Niall? How am I going to get through this night?”

“I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but I just know you will. Because you’re Harry Styles! Now get going, mate! You’ll be late and it’s very rude to be tardy on a date.”

Harry rolled his eyes but embraced Niall before grabbing his phone and cramming it into his pants pocket. He took a deep breath before climbing into the taxi and giving the driver the address to Louis’. When he got to the penthouse it was as if his body had forgotten how to breathe. His lungs felt tight and his throat felt constricted and dry. He tried to take a deep breath but only ended up coughing. He paid the driver and stepped out of the cab. He was standing outside the penthouse for what seemed like hours, but was really only a few minutes, before buzzing Louis’ number. He recognized the voice that answered as Paul’s.

“Paul, it’s Harry. Here to go to Steve’s birthday with Louis?”

“Mr. Tomlinson will be right down, Mr. Styles,” Paul said, too formally and Harry felt sicker than he did originally. He leaned against the red brick of the building and waited for Paul and Louis to come down. It was at least five minutes, and Harry wondered if Louis’ was taking his sweet time on purpose to punish him more, before the doors finally opened. Harry took a deep breath when he saw Louis.

Louis was wearing a deep blue suit. It was so sharp and he had a cream dress shirt on underneath. His hair was quiffed and his ass in those pants...Harry felt his mouth water at the sight. And then he was hit with sudden guilt. Because the only feelings he should be feeling were that of guilt, not attraction. Louis had on aviators and Harry couldn’t see his eyes. He was facing straight ahead though, and Harry wondered if he’d even seen him.

“Mr. Styles, let’s get going,” and Harry’s jaw dropped at that having come out of Louis’ mouth. _Mr. Styles._ The fuck was that? “You and I are traveling in the Corvette. Paul will follow behind in the town car. As much as I’d love for you to drive with him, we need to keep up appearances for tonight. Look like a proper couple and not just one of my usual one night stands, am I right? Though you’d be so lucky,” Louis headed straight towards the carport, and Harry dumbly followed behind, having no idea how to even respond to that.

They got to the car and Louis climbed into the driver’s seat. Harry slunk into the passenger seat, feeling awkward and weird and completely alone. That had to be the worst feeling - feeling totally and completely lonely when you’re next to the one you love.

_Love._

There was that pesky little word again. How was it even possible to feel so strongly about someone after having only known them for what? Three days at the time Harry started feeling those things. Three days and he was in love. And now they weren’t even speaking to each other. And it was the most painful thing in the entire world.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, his voice quiet and soft as possible.

After a pause, Louis asked quite coolly, “Did you say something, Mr. Styles?”

“ _Christ_ ,” Harry hissed, “Can you stop with that, please?”

“Stop with what?” Louis asked casually, “I am calling you by your name, right? It is Mr. Styles, right? The man hired to write an article on me? The man propositioned to be my pretend date for this evening.”

“Jesus Lou, it’s Harry! Harold? Hazza?”

“Please,” Louis cleared his throat, hands gripping tightly on the wheel, “It’s Mr. _Tomlinson_.”

“Bullshit,” Harry was so done right now, so beyond fucking done.

“ _Excuse_ me?” Louis drug the word out long, his voice sounding as if Harry had gravely offended him.

“That’s bullshit, Louis. I’m not going to fucking call you Mr. Tomlinson because you are _not_ your fucking father.”

Louis shifted slightly in the driver’s seat. His shoulders squared tighter and his knuckles were now a ghostly white on the wheel. “Quite bold of you to speak to me so candidly, Mr. Styles. We hardly know one another.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Harry threw his head back, “We _know_ each other, Louis!”

“I don’t think so,” Louis sniffed indignantly, “I mean, I thought I knew someone by the name of Harry Styles. But that was before I learned that he was just the same as everyone else. And now this Harry Styles is nothing more than a stranger to me. Please, Mr. Styles, shut the fuck up. I’d love to drive in peace.”

Harry clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to say anything in response. This was worse than anything he’d imagined all week. This was hell. Absolute hell. And Steve Tomlinson was the fucking devil laughing at them as he poked them with his pitchfork.

“Look, I’m not the one you should be angry at. Okay, maybe you should be a little angry with me. But your father is the puppet master behind all of this. And I think you know that. This isn’t what I want, Louis. You know me. You know the type of person I am…”

“I made the mistake of thinking I did once. I’m not letting myself get hurt again. I can’t let myself get hurt again. It’d fucking kill me, Mr. Styles. Put that in your article. Write in your article that Louis Tomlinson can barely even hold himself together. He’s broken pieces tied together with string and paperclips and one night stands and binge nights. Put that your god damn article. It’d sell a million copies too. Make me out to be the joke I apparently am.”

“Shut up! _Shut up!_ That’s _not_ true. Please, Louis. You are so strong. And you aren’t a joke. You...you’re the bravest, smartest person I know.”

“Must not know many people, huh?” Louis sighed and fiddled with the dash, finding a CD in the player he wanted to listen to. It was angry music, harsh and loud and Harry felt his ear drums rattle with the sound. He wanted to reach for the volume knob but he knew Louis would probably slap his hand off if he tried.

“Tell me what to do to fix this,” Harry begged, desperate for a solution.

“Is your article almost finished, Mr. Styles?”

“I’m not going to respond to you if you’re going to keep addressing me like that.”

“Very well then, Mr. Styles. You work for my father, not for me. Not much I can do to you.”

“I do not work for your father, Louis. I don’t!”

“You work for Syndrome. And after this article, it’ll just be official.”

Harry sighed, but said no more. The rest of the drive was silent except for the loud music blaring from the speakers. And as if this night couldn’t get worse, the music was giving Harry a migraine and that was the last thing he needed on top of everything else.

They pulled down a tight little road and Louis started fidgeting in his seat. Harry knew they were close. There was a massive iron gate, opened and inviting. The mansion was unlike anything Harry had ever seen in his entire life. It was massive!

“Did you...grow up here?” Harry asked as Louis pulled the Corvette in behind another line of cars.

“Home sweet home,” Louis’ voice was ice on pavement, slick and dangerous.

And suddenly, the mansion lost all it’s glamour. Harry imagined a scared little boy growing up here alone and traumatized. Living in constant fear and loneliness. He imagined what that must have been like for Louis. And how Louis still managed to make everyone else’s happiness his ultimate end goal. He was always so animated and a literal joy to be around. After the childhood he’d had, Harry wondered how Louis even survived and came out so strong. _Little soldier._

“Let’s do this,” Louis sighed, putting the car in park. But he still sat there with his hands on the wheel, not moving. Harry awkwardly played with the hem of his shirt and stared down at his knees. This was weird. He should be comforting Louis, encouraging him. But right now, he had no idea what Louis even wanted from him. Other than for him to fall off a cliff, and he wasn’t even sure Louis really wanted that either.

“Hey,” Harry kept his voice as soft and as gentle as possible as he turned to face Louis, “You’re not doing this alone. Okay?”

“You’re right,” Louis peeled off the aviators and deposited them in the cup holder, “Zayn and Liam will be there.”

Okay, not what Harry had meant. But Louis was now climbing out of the car, so at least that was something. Harry followed behind him up the steps towards the massive oak doors. He felt his heart beating violently against his chest. He reached out and snatched Louis’ hand in his own. Louis tried to pull away but Harry gripped tight.

“For appearances,” he said, but really he just knew Louis needed someone to hold his hand. The boy looked like he was about to face the devil himself, and in a way, he was.

“Right,” Louis gave in, and actually squeezed Harry’s hand back. Though it may just have been reflex. Harry wasn’t sure.

“You ready to do this?” Harry asked.

“No.”

“Me either,” Harry admitted.

“But we have to.”

“Can’t just stand out here all night.”

“Nope.”

“So...are you going to ring the bell or should I?”

“He’s my father,” Louis sighed, “I’ll ring the bell.”

But his hand didn’t move. Harry squeezed his hand again and rang the bell himself.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

“Zayn and Liam will be here soon.”

“Good, good. I’m glad they can come and be here for you.”

“Yeah.”

The door finally creaked open and a man in a white suit with a pink carnation in his lapel answered.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he nodded to Louis, “And Harry Styles. Welcome. You can join the rest of the guests in the ballroom.”

“You have a _ballroom_ ,” Harry hissed into Louis’ ear as they slipped through the doors.

“You don’t?” Louis asked, and his hip nudged into Harry’s slightly. What was that? Banter? Couldn’t be.

“Of course we do,” Harry said defensively, “My parents’ ballroom is right off the billiard room across from the conservatory.”

And Louis actually laughed at that and Harry felt himself remember how to breathe again. “Harry?”

“I thought I was Mr. Styles?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice as he said it.

“Sorry, what were you going to say?”

“Just that I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, squeezing Louis’ hand in his again.

“But if you’re going to make bratty comments, Harold, I _will_ take that back in a heartbeat. So don’t push your luck. Now then, let’s get this over with.”

“Gladly,” Harry said as they pushed their way through the doors and into the ballroom.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Steve face-off. Things are going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! Getting close to the end now. And I do have trouble finishing my stories. But I am adament about finishing this one. I am so passionate about it and love it so much! The next chapter will have some more Harry and Louis in it, I promise. Thank you all so, so much! xx :)

The banquet was going well, all things considered. Harry drank champagne that could probably pay for his entire month’s rent by the glass, and was introduced repeatedly as Louis’ date - this is my date, Harry...Have you met my date, Harry...and Harry had to admit, it was nice. Louis stayed by his side throughout the whole evening. They brushed fingertips over each other’s arms during introductions and every once in awhile, Louis would squeeze Harry’s hand. It felt nice to be there together. But Harry couldn’t help but wonder where it’d leave them once the night came to a close.

Things were going well up until Steve approached them. They were standing off in a corner chatting with Liam and Zayn. Harry could feel the tension coming from the two of them, but they kept it hidden as best they could. The four of them chatted just as they’d all done back at Louis’ before...well, everything.

Steve approached them and Harry could just feel Louis visibly stiffen at his side. He reached out and wrapped an arm protectively around his waist and Louis seemed to settle a bit under the touch. Liam and Zayn stepped forward too. It looked quite like a “You’ll have to get through us first,” type of scene. And in a way, it was.

“Louis,” Steve nodded to his son.

“Dad,” Louis grumbled his response, and Harry felt him leaning closer into him. And Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek because really. This went beyond just putting up appearances. Louis was in a way hiding into Harry. And Harry rubbed his thumb along Louis’ lower back. I’m here, it’s okay. Louis didn’t even shift or protest at the touch. And Harry remembered being one of the only people in the world allowed to touch Louis’ there.

“What do you need?” Liam asked, chin jutting out slightly.

“Came to say hi to my son,” Steve grinned serpentinely, “Is that a problem?” He asked, and now his gaze was on Louis.

“N-no, sir.”

“Good. Harry. Good to see you, my boy. Might I pull you away from your shadow here to have a word with you?”

Harry felt his stomach dip. The last thing he wanted was a one-on-one with Steve Tomlinson. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to go without bloodying the man’s nose. But he just nodded and gave Louis a reassuring squeeze - partly for his own benefit.

“Whatever you have to say to him, you can say to me,” Louis jutted in front of Harry.

“Son, have you forgotten this is nothing more than a charade?” Steve asked, titling his head to the side, “Harry will be gone from your life as soon as he writes his article. You seem to have forgotten this is just an act.”

And Louis faltered. Harry sighed, “Sir, what do you want to discuss with me?”

“Just a word, Mr. Styles. If you’ll follow me to my office…”

Harry took a deep breath and just nodded. He turned to follow Steve, and noticed Liam, Zayn, and Louis were following behind as well.

“Whatever he has to say to you, he can say to all of us,” Zayn insisted, “I don’t know where you stand right now, Harry. But I think you’re on Louis’ side. I can feel it. So we’re on your side too - unless you do something to change our opinion of you. But right now, it’s the four of us. Okay?”

Harry nodded, “You’re about to see who’s side I’m on here in just a minute,” he kept his voice clipped, eyes on the back of Steve’s head.

They entered a massive office, walls flanked by numerous bookshelves. A fireplace off to one corner caught Harry’s attention. There was a massive oak desk and Steve  sunk into a leather chair on one side of the desk. Harry declined the seat offered to him, insisting on standing.

“Mr. Styles. You and I have an arrangement. I just want to make sure that arrangement still stands.”

And it hit Harry then. This was all just one more punch aimed at his son. He wanted Harry to say - in Louis’ presence - that after the article came to a close, Harry would leave, collect his money, and cut all contact with Louis and his friends. The thought made Harry’s stomach dip. If he’d ever been considering taking the money, he sure as hell wasn’t now.

“Arrangement? You mean you trying to bribe me into leaving your son?”

Louis, Liam, and Zayn were standing behind Harry and Harry turned to look at Louis. He was staring at his shoes and looked as though he was going to crumble at any moment. Harry took a deep breath, gathering his words and his courage -

“Sir, you can offer me all the money you have. I am not going to stop being there for Louis. You have everyone running scared. You isolate him by doing exactly what you’re trying to accomplish now. So what is this, Mr. Tomlinson? Can’t abuse him like you did when he was a child, so you try to turn anyone who loves and cares for him against him? It didn’t work for Zayn and Liam, and it’s not going to work for me. _I’m not going anywhere._ ”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Steve’s eyes narrowed and Harry didn’t turn around to see Louis’ reaction. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his hands on Steve’s desk, getting as close into his face as he could.

“You heard me. You are a monster, Steve Tomlinson. Louis is bravery and goodness and kindness and sweetness and no matter what you try to do to him, he’ll always be stronger than you. Remember that, okay? Louis is stronger than you could ever dream of being. And maybe I did consider your offer. I may have considered it for two seconds. But you know what made me change my mind and make a decision? Your son. He’s the strongest person I know, Steve. And it’s a shame you can’t see that. Or if you do, you try to squash it out of him. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re making a _huge_ mistake,” Steve stiffened, “The amount of money I’m offering you…”

“Is a bribe,” Harry scoffed, running a hand through his hair, “You want to pay me off. You want me to write your article and then leave Louis, because? Because why? Because I stood up against you? Because I care for your son? Heaven forbid someone loves Louis, right? Well sir, I do. And no amount of money can convince me not to.”

There was a sharp intake of breath behind Harry and Steve glared daggers into Harry as he said, “I don’t think you realize what you’re doing, Mr. Styles. If you go against me, you can kiss your job at Syndrome goodbye. You can kiss ever being a journalist in this city goodbye!”

“Fine then,” Harry shrugged, “I don’t need to be a journalist. I would have liked to be, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for your son. Because I love him. And that’s what you do when you love someone. You sacrifice. Besides, working at Syndrome - working under you - would be complete and total hell. And I am quite happy with my job at the bakery. I enjoy working there. I make a decent pay. And I’m happy there. And guess what, sir?”

“What?”

“The bakery? It’s privately owned. You don’t fund it. You can’t touch it. You can’t touch me. And I most certainly am not letting you touch your son again. Working under you would be working for the devil, and I’m not going to make any deals with the devil.”

“You will regret this!”

“I won’t,” Harry shrugged casually, “All I regret is the fact that I didn’t tell you all this sooner. You try to take away everyone from your son and isolate him. You can’t take me from him, Steve. No matter how much money you offer me. I love Louis. And I’m going to be there for him to protect him from monsters like you. And to remind him of how strong and how good and how brave he is. And there’s nothing you can do about that.”

“Louis, what do _you_ have to say to this?” Steve’s gaze narrowed in on his son. And Harry felt his breath constrict. Steve was putting Louis on the spot, and he hated him for it. Louis looked terrified, but he stepped forward anyway until he was now standing next to Harry.

“I say,” Louis took a deep breath before reaching out to grab tight onto Harry’s hand, “Keep your fucking company - “ Harry’s head snapped to face Louis and from behind them Liam let out a breath - “I say I want no part of you ever again. Keep your company. Keep your money. Keep your flashy cars. Keep the designer clothes. Keep it all!”

“And what exactly are you going to do?” Steve laughed, “You have _nothing_ without me! You _are_ nothing without me!”

“I have Zayn. And Liam. And I have Harry. And that’s enough for me.”

“Where will you live? You walk away from me and you lose everything you own, Louis. All your possessions have been paid for with my money. Walk away from me, and you lose everything you’ve ever owned.”

“Never really owned anything then, did I?” Louis shrugged, “I don’t need anything that came from your pocket, Dad. I don’t need you at all.”

“And where will you even live?” Steve sneered.

“With me,” Harry stepped forward, “With me, and my roommate Niall.”

Steve roared with laughter and Harry felt his cheeks sting slightly, “Good luck with that, son. Really. You’ve known Harry here for what, a week? And you think that he’s going to stand by you? He’ll leave you like everyone else. Just you wait and see.”

“Never,” Harry’s voice was surprisingly level despite how he was currently feeling on the inside at the moment, “I will _never_ leave him.”

“Then you can get out. All of you,” Steve leaned back further in his chair, “And Louis, don’t even go back to the Penthouse. You are not welcome there.”

The four of them turned to leave. Harry walked next to Louis, neither one of them saying anything. The weight of the tension between the four of them was suffocating. They made their way out of the mansion and over towards Liam’s Toyota.

“Look,” Liam cleared his throat, “You two clearly have some stuff to talk about. So we’re just going to stand over there and let you two work out some things. Then we’ll give you a lift to Harry’s.”

Harry nodded and Zayn, but of nowhere, grabbed Harry into a huge hug.

“Uh...Zayn?” Harry raised a brow, but hugged him back.

“Thank you,” Zayn said into Harry’s ear, “Knew you were on his side!”

After breaking apart, Zayn and Liam walked over towards a cluster of trees, leaving Louis and Harry with their privacy. Harry took a deep breath and ran a hand through his curls. This hadn’t been what he’d imagined this night to end up as. But here they were. He felt so many emotions all at once. He was scared and anxious and proud and now he just really wanted to know what Louis was feeling as well.

“Harry…”

“Hi,” Harry winced slightly, having no idea where they stood with one another at the moment. Part of him wanted to crush Louis into a huge hug. Part of him wanted to cover his face in kisses. But he had no idea what was appropriate. There were no lines anymore - at least none that Harry knew of.

“Hi,” Louis bit down on his bottom lip, but he was smiling bashfully. Harry took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

“Louis…”

“Harry, wait. What you said back there...well...that was...that was brilliant!” Louis’ eyes lit up excitedly, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone speak to him like that before. He looked like you’d slapped him in the face! It was...it was terrific!”

“I was never going to take his deal, Lou. Never. I wouldn’t do that for you.”

“I know that, Hazza. I do. I just...I am so used to people hurting me.”

“No one will hurt you again, Lou. I won’t let them.”

“I can’t believe this!” Louis tossed his head back and laughed, “Harry, I’m out! I’m _really_ out! I have no idea what I’m going to do, but if we can face this together...then I think I’m going to be okay.”

“Of course we’ll face this together,” Harry took Louis’ hands in his own, “And you’re going to move in with me and Niall. And you and I are going to get through this. And we’re going to be fine, Louis. You’re going to be fine.”

“I really think so,” Louis grasped Harry’s hands tighter, “I can’t believe you...how are you even real?”

“I’m real, Louis. I’m very much real.”

Louis rolled his eyes back to stop tears from falling, “I just can’t believe this is real. That _you’re_ real. That someone would do all this for me. I know what you’re sacrificing for me, Harry. Thank you. That...that’s really something.”

“I meant everything I said back there, Louis. You know that right? I love you. Liam and Zayn love you. You aren’t alone and everything will sort itself out. It may be hard, but we’ll figure it all out together. You aren’t alone, Lou. Never alone again.”

Louis dropped Harry’s hands and wrapped his arms around Harry. Harry closed the embrace. “I love you, Harry!” Louis pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek, “I really do love you! You brilliant, _brilliant_ boy!”

Harry just held Louis tighter against him. He had no idea how these next few weeks were going to play out, but all that mattered right now that Steve Tomlinson was out of their lives. And that Louis was in his arms. Everything else could just wait a moment. Because right now, those two things were all that mattered. Harry pressed a kiss against Louis’ forehead. They’d get through this. Somehow, someway. They would together.


End file.
